I just felt a profound sadness.

“I told him to go see my mom, because she’s not at her best.”

“Earlier you said she was capable.”

“Earlier I was respecting her pride and dignity. She knows her limits. But she’s far from her best. I told my dad to go to her. If he couldn’t do that, he was supposed to focus on ensuring Amy gets to therapy. Again, win for everybody if that happens. She’s the scariest damn person in the world. It makes sense. Murder was a last resort, if it even comes to that. I wanted to drive home how important this was. How serious. I kind of want to do the same for you.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“No. I’m saying the world is about to end, and it’s going to be a very complicated end if we don’t have the Red Queen handled in some fashion. Let me make a phone call and give her someone to talk to. That’s all I want. I’ll do whatever else you require.”

“Your job, this entire time, Antares, Glory Girl, Victoria, whatever you want to call yourself, has been to sit down, be quiet, answer any questions if explicitly asked. Get the hint. Accept that you’re benched.”

He was a bit pissed now. A few heads around the room were looking.

“Will you make the phone call then?” I asked. I held out my phone in his direction. “Please. Doc—”

He took my phone out of my hand and slapped it down against the table, face down.

Incensed. Breathing hard. Glaring.

“Last night you told Defiant and Dragon that you wanted to submit to the authority of the Wardens. That you’d accept any decisions and punishments from our group in exchange for our continued resources.”

“Eric,” I said, meeting his eyes. “With all due respect, I’ve seen nothing to indicate you have any authority at all over me. I’m going to go make my phone call. I’ll stick around, I’ll offer advice, and if and when Chevalier or another member of Warden leadership shows up, I’ll accept their decision. If they decide my actions here warrant kicking Breakthrough out? Fine. This? This phone call you’re ignoring? It’s important. This imminent disaster? Important.”

I was so tempted to add something along the lines of ‘You? Not so much.’

I was pretty sure I conveyed it with the look I gave him.

I was so done with this.

I collected my phone, noting the crack on a screen that had remained intact through more than a dozen cape fights, and slipped it into my pocket, turning to head out to the hallway.

He grabbed me by the upper arm. The same arm that had the bullet wound that still hurt sometimes.

Down girl, I thought, before my power could do anything. We exist as a totality of me. I get a say.