The trip across the city gave Taylor far too much time to think, not that she needed the extra time. She’d already spent most of the last few hours thinking. Thinking and worrying and second-guessing herself until every conclusion she’d reached felt suspect.
Still, her brain continued trying.
The Dallon household sat in one of the nicer parts of Brockton Bay. The roads were cleaner, the houses were larger, and the streetlights actually worked. It was the sort of neighbourhood that looked like it belonged somewhere else entirely.
Taylor shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she walked. Her eyes kept drifting from house to house, and eventually to the Dallon residence itself.
Compared to everything else, it was… surprisingly normal. Large, certainly, and expensive-looking, but not fortress-like. Certainly not what she’d expected from one of the most famous cape families in the country.
Actually, the longer she looked at it, the stranger it seemed. There wasn’t much visible security, no obvious cameras, no fences worth mentioning, and no armed guards lurking nearby.
Taylor slowed slightly.
That couldn’t be right. This was New Wave. A family made up entirely of public capes.
People knew where they lived. People knew where they slept. People knew where their children slept.
It was insane just how exposed they were.
Sure, this was New Wave territory. Anybody stupid enough to cause trouble here was practically begging for a visit from Manpower or Glory Girl.
Still, this was Brockton Bay. The city had gangs, supervillains, drug dealers, and lunatics. The Empire alone should have been reason enough for more security. Yet, the more she searched, the more normal everything looked.
Maybe there was security she couldn’t see, alarms, hidden cameras, or something. Or maybe being related to Glory Girl was enough of a deterrent. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t really her problem. And if she was being honest, the lack of security made her life significantly easier. The last thing she wanted was to explain herself to a security guard. Or worse, get stopped before she even reached the front door.
Taylor climbed the steps.
Her stomach immediately started twisting.
This was a mistake. A terrible mistake. She knew it. Every instinct she had was screaming at her to turn around and go home.
She ignored it, then she knocked. The sound seemed impossibly loud, and a part of Taylor immediately regretted it. But there was no taking it back now, so she waited.
There were no approaching footsteps, no voices, or anything that hinted at movement from inside.
Taylor shifted her weight to her other leg and frowned.
Maybe nobody was home. That would… honestly be ideal. She could tell herself she’d tried, go home and figure out another plan. Or maybe no plan. At this point she’d settle for crawling into bed and pretending the entire situation didn’t exist.
A minute passed, then another.
Taylor was just beginning to convince herself that the house was empty when she heard movement from inside, and immediately, her pulse spiked. Still, she resisted the urge to flee. Barely.
The footsteps grew closer, a shadow appearing beyond the frosted glass. Then came the sound of a lock disengaging, and the door soon swung open.
Glory Girl answered.
Taylor’s brain promptly stopped working.
In hindsight, she probably should have expected this possibility. Victoria Dallon lived here. That wasn’t exactly a secret, but knowing something intellectually and experiencing it were two entirely different things.
And that was because Victoria Dallon was ridiculous.
There was simply no other word for it.
Even dressed in sleepwear, even standing in the doorway of her own home, and even without her costume, she somehow still looked larger than life, effortlessly confident, and beautiful. The sort of person people noticed immediately upon entering a room.
Taylor had always thought some of that reputation had to be exaggerated. It wasn’t at all, and the fact that Victoria was hovering a few inches above the floor probably didn’t help.
Taylor stared, Victoria stared back, and several seconds passed. Then several more. Taylor became dimly aware that she should probably say something. Anything. Instead she continued standing there.
Victoria’s expression shifted gradually. First confusion, then concern, and eventually the beginnings of annoyance. Taylor still hadn’t spoken.
“…Uh.” Victoria glanced behind herself before looking back at Taylor. “Can we help you?”
Nothing.
Taylor’s brain remained entirely useless. A horrifying amount of time had passed, enough that Taylor could actually feel herself dying inside. But thankfully, eventually, she managed to blink.
That seemed to, somewhat, restart her higher brain functions.
“Oh.”
Brilliant opening.
Taylor wanted the ground to swallow her.
Still Victoria waited with more grace than Taylor probably deserved, now very, very confused. And in that silence, Taylor suddenly became aware of how strange this looked from Victoria’s perspective. Some random teenage girl had walked up to her house, knocked on her door, and then spent nearly a full minute staring at her.
Fantastic first impression.
The awkwardness threatened to overwhelm her, and for a moment she seriously considered abandoning the whole thing, just apologising, and making up an excuse before leaving and pretending this never happened.
The temptation was powerful because once she said it, there was no going back. Once she asked for Amy, the situation became even more real. There would be no more speculation and no more wondering, only answers. Or at least the possibility of answers.
Taylor swallowed. Her throat felt dry, her hands felt clammy, and her heart was beating hard enough that she could feel it.
She thought about turning around, then she thought about Kali, about not knowing whether her own feelings belonged to her, and about another sleepless night spent wondering. No. She couldn’t keep doing this.
Taking a breath, Taylor forced herself to meet Victoria’s eyes.
“Yes,” she said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. “Can I speak with Panacea?”