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I ignore the rest of the history reporters and go straight for Bryan.
“We had a deal,” I say.
“I didn’t start this,” he answers. “I just followed the chatter.”
I look around at the crowd that’s gathered: not just the reporters, but students and even some distinguished faculty.
“Where can we go?” I ask Daniel.
“I know a place,” says Jake.
He leads us down a leaf-strewn walkway to where my new friend Wilkinson awaits with the car. Jake gets in front, Bryan climbs in back. I have no choice but to share the back seat with him.
“No comment,” I say as soon as we’re all settled. Wilkinson pulls out into light traffic. History reporters scramble to their vans and motorcycles and however else they arrived. Of course they’re not just going to give up.
I notice that Wilkinson is actually
