Chapter 8

“It is a hit!” shouted Henry, stretching his arms and leaning back in his arched, wheeled computer chair. None of his energy had left him. He and Amal were in Henry’s shabby apartment. Only a few hours had passed since they left the club with the Fulton video. Both combed through Henry’s Twitter feed, watching the responses to the prank pour in. Though Amal would probably use the word “trickle.” It didn’t matter to Henry— it was worth having h...