Maelis Rolkov

“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I said to Ronan, who had been shadowing me since the moment we landed on American soil.

The ten-hour flight from Moscow had been brutal with no stops.

By the time we touched down, I was half convinced my spine had turned to stone.

Ronan handled most of the arrangements once we arrived, hotel, transportation, everything.

The place he picked wasn’t far from the party, so I managed to steal a few hours of rest before getting ready.

He, on the other hand, hadn’t rested at all. Typical Ronan. Always alert, always too serious for his own good. I told him to...