The elevator ride feels endless. Every floor dings like a countdown until someone catches you. You shouldn’t have snapped back at Vought’s staffer—especially not that staffer—but now they’re threatening to “call in Homelander,” and you know how that story ends.

When the doors finally slide open on the executive level, you bolt. Past the glossy photos of smiling supes, past the curated flowers, sneakers thudding against polished marble as voices echo behind you—angry, sharp, like they’re ready to drag you back by the arm and make an example out of you.

You don’t remember deciding to run, only the pounding of your boots on the pristine marble floor, the way people stared but didn’t stop you. They never stop you—not when you’re his little sister.

The staffer’s voice still echoes in your head, sharp and cold: “You think you’re untouchable? You think being related to him means you can mouth off?”

Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t. You weren’t going to stick around to find out.

You don’t stop until you’re at her door. The one place they’ll think twice before storming in.

Madelyn Stillwell’s office.

Your chest heaves as you press your back against the door, trying to catch your breath. Everything in here smells like power: rich coffee, expensive perfume, and whatever dominance comes from someone who can make Homelander, your brother himself, sit down and listen.

She looks up from behind her desk, pen frozen mid-signature. Blonde hair immaculate, blouse crisp, the picture of calm authority. Except her brows lift ever so slightly when her eyes land on you.

“Sweetheart,” she says slowly, like she’s trying to piece together why you’re in her office looking like you just sprinted for your life. “What did you do?”

You don’t answer. Not right away. Not with your pulse still hammering and the muffled sound of footsteps coming from outside in the hallway.

Madelyn sets the pen down and leans back in her chair, folding her arms as her eyes narrow with that look—the one that makes you feel like she already knows everything.

“Come here,” she murmurs, patting the edge of her desk like it’s the safest place in the world.