The Dream only had one person on their list. The very last name. This dead hunter had circled it a bunch of times, pressing so hard the pencil broke through the paper, and then at the bottom of the map, he’d drawn a pretty impressive likeness of their target with a big X over his goofy, smiling face. Louis. I sighed, remembering that moment when Louis had snatched the photograph of Epitome Noflex from my hands and then demanded that Juice Box transform into her likeness so he could bang her.
