she says, pushing up her frames. “I keep thinking maybe the camera will pan left, just a bit, so I can get a glimpse of Ryan. If I look away…I might miss it. And I don’t want to miss it. He’s hurt, somewhere he’s hurt, and no one is trying to help him. I won’t know what to do with myself if he dies.”
I wrap my arm around her, sharing her wish. If only the camera would move an inch, just to let me know that Joy is there. Breathing. Alive.
Matt delivers his “purple paper” line, and it dredges up the last bit of courage I have left. We are here to take action. I need to move.
“Anna, have you seen Teddy?”
She shakes her head, frustrated. “No! Why do you two keep asking me that? Who cares about stupid Teddy when my boyfriend is out there being tortured, held against his will?” She cries so hard she starts to choke, lungs gasping for air. Mom immediately goes into caretaker mode, kneeling beside her and gently stroking her back.
“Slow it down, nice and easy,” she coos as Anna gargles the word “asthma,” clutching her chest. Mom looks through Anna’s bag and pulls out an inhaler, pressing the device against her lips. A few deep breaths later, she’s back on track, but still incredibly shaken.
“We need to keep moving,” Bridgette whispers to me. “Can your mom stay here with Anna, make sure she’s okay?”
“Go,” Mom says, eavesdropping. “But just promise to check back soon.”
I kiss the top of her head, and we head off. The fact that Teddy hasn’t found us yet, that he isn’t breathing down my neck about something pointless, feels very incriminating.
“How do you think he pulled it off?” I ask Bridgette as we race down the halls. “I mean, sure, Teddy’s smart and all, but he’s not exactly strong.”
“He knew all the heroes’ weaknesses,” she says matter-of-factly. “Like how Matt can turn invisible, but he can’t walk through walls. Most villains don’t even realize that and assume he’s just disappearing through drywall. But if you trap him, he can’t get anywhere.”
Wow, I don’t even think I knew that. I make a mental note to add it to my grail diary later.
“When we get to the cafeteria,” Bridgette continues, “you keep an eye out and I’ll stand on a table to yank out that purple paper.”
“Yes, can do,” I reply. “Do you think anyone will get suspicious? I mean, it’s a pretty random thing to do, start tearing down a mural.”
“I don’t know. All of HQ has turned into demoralized zombies. Either they will care a lot and go straight for our brains, or barely notice at all.”
God. I hate that what she’s saying is true. “I cannot wait to take Siege down.”
We turn a corner and crash right into Teddy, who greets us with a slimy grin.
“Oh, so you think you know who Siege is now?”
For a second, I freeze, too many thoughts and emotions fighting for my attention at once. Teddy, always thinking he’s above everyone else. Teddy, who used his insider knowledge to game the very system he was sworn to support. Teddy, who’s been deliberately messing with my schedule to keep me off his scent and away from face time with Millie, just so he could execute his plans to torture my would-be girlfriend for his own personal gain!
“YOU!” I lunge for him, knocking his tablet out of his arms. I sink my nails into his shirt as the device shatters, glass crunching under our feet. Wild, rabid with rage, I claw at him as he stumbles back in surprise.
“Claire! What is the matter with you?” he yells, desperately swatting at me. But I don’t stop my assault—I can’t—ripping away at his buttoned sleeve until he finally overpowers me, squeezing my hands with his long, bony fingers.
“Let her go!” Bridgette screams, pounding both her fists—cast be damned—into his arm.
“What has gotten into you two?” he cries, beady eyes growing three sizes in shock.
“We know! We know you’re Siege!” I shout, hoping someone will overhear. “We’re here to put an end to your villainy once and for all!”
Slowly, ever so slowly, Teddy’s expression twists from dismay to delight, his horrified gape bending into a satisfied smile. “You think I’m Siege?” Bridgette and I share a quick glance. Teddy releases me, tapping his chin in amusement. “Well, well, I must say I’m flattered.”
Okay…definitely not the response I was expecting. “Flattered? You’re happy we’re accusing you?”