The crack of the gunshot was the final string of today's chaos, but the man’s aim was hurried—jolted by the closing weight of the security team that had been trailing Miller’s unit. The bullet shattered a decorative glass vase behind the podium, showering the mahogany in a fine, crystalline dust. Before the gunman could chamber another round, he was swarmed, his face pressed into the marble floor by four guards.

I didn't blink. I didn't even flinch. I just stood in front of Aria, my ...