CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: REVELATION

Taylor didn’t know what to expect when Armsmaster called her to his office.

It wasn’t the first time. Since she had become a Ward, he’d summoned her regularly for training reviews, tactical debriefs, or one-on-one evaluations when he wanted to test the limits of her power in a controlled setting. But something about the phrasing this time felt different, setting her nerves on edge. Was she about to receive another bad news?

“This isn’t about your performance, but you should come immediately”

The words played repeatedly in her head as she stepped into his office and found him already standing beside his desk, helmet removed. That alone wasn’t unusual. But, though his expression gave nothing away, his posture was too rigid—even for someone like him—as if he was bracing himself.

“Sir?” she asked, wary.

“Close the door, Ms. Hebert,” Armsmaster said, voice carefully neutral.

She obeyed. The door hissed shut behind her, and somehow that sound made the room feel smaller, like the room had shrunk in on her.

He gestured to the chair opposite his desk. “Sit.”

She did, folding her hands in her lap, though she kept her back straight. “Is something wrong?”

“Yes,” he said. “But not with you.”

That startled her slightly. 

He didn’t sit. Instead, he crossed his arms behind his back and looked away for a long, silent moment, gathering his words, before he finally spoke.

“Sophia Hess has been apprehended.”

Taylor blinked.

“I’m sorry, who?”

“Sophia Hess,” he repeated. “She’s currently being held pending a criminal investigation. Charges will follow.”

Her brain stumbled at the name. It rang a bell, but it took a second for it to properly register.

She blinked again as it did. Her face stayed composed, but her heartbeat quickened.

Sophia. Emma’s new best friend, her personal enforcer, and one of the three who’d made her life at Winslow a living nightmare. The one who had gone beyond insults and threats. Who shoved, tripped, and twisted wrists when no one was watching. The one who, on that day, had helped put her in that locker.

The name settled like ice in her chest.

“Wait,” she said slowly, shaking her head. “How?”

“New testimony surfaced,” Armsmaster replied. “A student came forward. Madison Clements. She expressed remorse and provided a full statement about your harassment at Winslow, including Sophia’s involvement in the incident that precipitated your trigger.”

Taylor said nothing, eyes fixed on a spot somewhere past his shoulder.

She hadn’t thought about Sophia Hess in months. Not since dropping out of Winslow. Not since she’d stepped into the gym and traded that chapter of her life for something infinitely more dangerous. Emma, Madison, Sophia… those names belonged to someone she used to be. A girl who was buried in the locker and resurrected under Keith’s teachings and hard work.

They didn’t matter anymore. She had moved on. 

And yet, here they were again. Here Sophia was. Not just part of her past, but entangled in her present, wrapped in the very institution that now called itself her ally.

“That’s not all,” Armsmaster said.

Taylor looked up.

“Sophia was a Ward,” he continued. “She operated under the name Shadow Stalker.”

The silence that followed was so profound, so complete, that Taylor could hear the usually quiet hum of the ventilation system above them.

But her breath was suspiciously absent. 

“A Ward?” she said at last, disbelieving. 

Her mouth was dry, and her hands had gone numb.

“She was on probationary status,” Armsmaster replied, and this time there was a note of bitterness in his voice. “Due to behavioral concerns. We had hoped she could be rehabilitated under supervision.”

Taylor stood. She didn’t remember deciding to move, but she was already up, the chair squeaking behind her.

He made no move to stop her.

“I need to leave,” she said quietly, head bowed, and hands stiff at her sides.

“I understand.”

“I just—” She shook her head again. “I thought the PRT was supposed to be filled with heroes.”

There was a pause behind her. Then his voice came, low: “We thought she could be one, but we were wrong. And for that, we’re sorry.”

Taylor didn’t respond. She turned and walked out into the hallway.

The light outside was too bright, and her vision prickled at the corners. But she kept walking, blinking hard against it, and feeling something tremble inside her chest.

She didn’t know what it was, this thing inside her. Anger? Vindication? Some awful mix of both? Like finding out the monster under your bed had been sleeping beside you the whole time.

She should’ve felt relief. After all, Armsmaster had seen what happened to her and had cared enough to do something. The PRT had finally done something. Justice, they would call it. Consequences for Sophia’s actions. But all she could think about was how long it had taken. How many nights prior to the locker incident she’d spent wondering if she was just weak for not fighting back harder. How many times she’d swallowed her anger until it rotted inside her.

A part of her wanted to laugh, and the other part wanted to scream. Because probationary or not, Sophia had been a Ward. 

A Ward.

One of the ‘heroes.’ The people kids were supposed to look up to. The capes the PRT put on trading cards, whose faces hung in glossy frames in the lobby downstairs. The ones sent to schools to talk about teamwork and responsibility and doing the right thing.

And all that time, Sophia had been one of them.

Before the locker incident. While she’d been cornering Taylor in empty stairwells, tripping her in hallways, and pinning her against lockers with that sick smile, she’d already been a Ward. Already wearing the mask.

Taylor felt her stomach twist with the realization. Not just because of what it meant about Sophia, but what it meant about the system that had let her in. That had given her a badge and a handler and a dozen second chances while Taylor had been alone in the dark.

Sophia hadn’t needed to hide. Someone in the PRT had hidden her.

Her hands shook at her sides, faint traces of red flaring around her fingertips.

All this time she’d been second-guessing herself, wondering if she’d been overreacting, if maybe she had been too sensitive. And now she knew that the world had simply decided that Sophia Hess, violent, remorseless bully, was worth more than Taylor Hebert.

Until now.

So no, she didn’t know what this feeling was.

Only that it burned.