The top of his white suit is tattered, jagged pieces hanging at the neckline, and a black leather glove grips his shoulder, holding him down.
Matt. Oh, Matt.
Claire holds on to me as Mary cries, uttering a breathless “Dear god” as Matt struggles to move his mouth to speak.
“Citizens of Chicago,” Matt starts, lips chapped and bloody. “Your heroes have failed you. But truly, you have failed yourselves. Why do you place your faith in only the supers, ignoring the strength within you? You place your lives in the care of those who fly and fight, but why? Why does some organization get to decide who is super and who is not? Why do some powers get treated with respect, while others are cast aside?” Matt coughs, struggling to continue reading the message he’s being forced to deliver. The gloved hand squeezes him tighter, pushing him to continue. “Siege has assembled a team of castoffs to prove that Warriors are not the only ones who can make a difference. He is freeing this city from the social constructs that bind us, that make us believe that only certain people can save the day.”
“We were right,” Claire mumbles, without a hint of satisfaction. “Siege is one person.”
“A person who’s torturing the people we love,” I choke. A tear runs down my cheek as my fingertips graze the screen; I desperately wish I could give Matt even an ounce of comfort right now.
“Siege has done the impossible, proving that heroes are nothing but worthless idols unworthy of fame or adoration. This is only the beginning. Warriors across the country will fall, and from the ashes a new era will rise.” Matt pauses again, catching his breath, but this time, something changes in his face, like he’s mustering up every last bit of strength to finish what he’s started. His drooping head snaps up straight, eyebrows lifted toward the sky as he says, “But the purple paper makes it whole!” just as the hand that held him smacks across his face, screen cutting to black.
The three of us scream in Claire’s bedroom, mom and daughter grabbing on to each other, sandwiching me in between. I keep staring at my phone, willing it to bring back Matt’s face, but it remains dark.
“Oh my god!” Claire shouts in my ear, burying her forehead into my shoulder.
“Those poor kids,” Mary says on my left. “I…need some wine.” She wiggles free to give us both a kiss on the head, fighting back tears as she leaves the room.
“Matt’s face…” Claire breathes into me. “What is Siege doing to them?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I don’t know.”
“They have to do something now, right?” Claire asks, releasing me from her tight squeeze. “Millie and Roy and everyone? If they know it’s Teddy, now would be the time to release that information, consequences of having it be one of their own be damned. There’s no way they don’t go in guns blazing after this.”
“Yeah…” I trail off, taking a seat on Claire’s bed. I feel dizzy, light-headed, with the image of Matt’s beaten face taking over my vision, his words swirling on a constant loop. How awful it must have been for him to speak those lies, to go against everything he believes in and fights for. Every sentence in direct opposition to his work, his heart…except…
“Wait a minute,” I say. “It was a clue!”
“What?”
“Matt said the purple paper makes it whole. Remember my mural, and how I ran out of blue paper?” I start, a small drop of excitement diluting the panic in my veins. “I wanted to swap out that purple piece that didn’t match, but Matt told me to leave it there, that it made the mural whole. He said that someday when we’re all gone, that paper will still be there, contributing in its own small way.” I’m on my feet, bouncing with hope. “Matt was trying to tell me something…. There must be something on that piece of paper…a clue, a note he left behind. Something!” I exhale deeply, looking back at Matt’s smiling face on Claire’s wall. Even though we’re not together, Matt still trusted I wouldn’t give up on him. He left me some kind of information. Hoping I’d be watching. Knowing I’d be watching.
Claire is right there with me. “Because he knows it’s Teddy! Maybe he’s leading us to some kind of literal paper trail, like a file that indicates a history of violence or something incriminating!”
Teddy. No one at HQ is