twenty-four hours. Millie adjusts her black-framed glasses and impatiently nudges Roy, who mumbles, “Oh, um, please, everyone find a seat.”
No one feels like getting cozy, as emotions are running high. “Where’s my daughter?” calls Aqua Maiden’s mother from the crowd, followed by several similar cries. “What is going on?”
Roy looks down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck in worry. The mood lighting in the room is not to be trusted, but I swear he’s turning green. “Um…”
Millie, a seasoned pro from a lifetime of Warrior press conferences, jumps in, remaining cool despite the growing heat. “We have no new updates at this time, I’m afraid.”
“What about the other chapters?” Houston asks. “When are they arriving as backup?”
Millie holds her chin high, continuing to take the lead since Roy looks a second away from vomiting. “We’ve been in contact with Los Angeles, New York, Boston: We are not calling for outside chapter backup until we can further assess the situation with the siege.”
What? That makes absolutely zero sense. Why wouldn’t you bring in your greatest allies during a time of extreme crisis? This does not sit right at all.
“You’re telling me my son’s life is in danger, and you won’t call for backup?” asks one of Earthquake’s dads, balling his hands into fists in frustration.
“We cannot have other cities without active heroes, in case the siege spreads,” Millie continues. “This is an unprecedented situation, and as a national organization, we need to be strategic.”
“So leaving my son to die is your strategy?!” Outrage fills the room as Claire tightens her grip on my arm. The surrounding panic starts to seep through my skin, and I breathe deep to keep it at bay. I won’t let the undertow sweep me away. Not yet.
“We…um…” Roy attempts, swallowing hard. His eyes are watering from the pressure, knowing he should say something—
anything—but can’t find the words of comfort everyone needs. “We are…”
“We are doing everything we can,” Millie says, saving him. “I understand how distressing this is. You are welcome to stay at HQ if that helps you feel safe. We have plenty of accommodations. I do advise you stay as close as possible, as we are unsure of who or what will come under target now that the city is unprotected.” This is the last straw, and family members start clawing their way up to Millie and Roy, in need of something else, something more reassuring. Teddy, ever the martyr, throws himself in front of his boss, and she scurries away before they can get to her, although several follow her anyway, their angry shouts echoing through the halls. I stay behind with Claire, who’s back to poring over the pages of her book, searching for something. Two adults I don’t recognize, possibly Joy’s parents, approach her, the mother looking absolutely beside herself.
I look around and spot Matt’s dad standing alone, biting at his thumb, eyes unfocused. Mr. Rodriguez is a nice man who’s always been kind to me, but struggled with the superhero stuff. He didn’t like Matt putting his life on the line, but as a single father, all those product endorsements and appearance fees did help pay the bills.
“Hey, Bridgette, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, stepping into a familiar setting for us both. I’ve probably spent more time with this man in hospital waiting rooms than any other setting, each of us lost in our own worry as we sat side by side in silence, waiting for news. He wears a worn Cubs hat over his dark mocha hair, the same shade and wave as his son’s. Matt gets his good looks and charm from his dad, though neither takes center stage in these situations.
“I couldn’t stay away,” I admit.
“Matt’s been a real mess since the two of you split,” he says, running a hand over his stubbled cheek. “You were always good for him, gave him something to fight for….” He pauses, staring off in the distance.
“You okay, Mr. Rodriguez?”
He doesn’t fake a smile or put on a front; he doesn’t need to with me. “Matty’s a smart kid, I keep telling myself that. I just wish I’d never let him get mixed up in all this in the first place.”
“Well, knowing Matt, he probably would’ve done it anyway,” I say.
He manages a laugh. “That’s true. Stubborn little shit.” He squeezes my shoulder, lingering for a second as his eyes start to water. “I can’t stay here; I’ll drive myself crazy. Keep me