(THE “S” STANDS FOR HOPE) CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO: JESSICA

Jessica had seen Max Anders angry before. Cold and calculating, too. Smug in ways that made people mistake confidence for simple arrogance. She had seen him walk out of meetings already knowing how they would end, watched him talk men twice his age into believing his ideas had been theirs all along.

She had seen him bleed once, years ago, after a cape fight that had gone wrong. Even then, he’d still looked composed. Pale, irritated, and furious at the inconvenience more than the injury itself.

This was different.

The office door opened slowly enough that both she and Nessa straightened immediately. Max stepped inside, and for a second, Jessica almost didn’t recognize him.

He didn't look hurt. Superman hadn’t done that, at least not visibly. His suit was still pristine aside from a faint layer of dust along one sleeve and trouser leg, and his hair remained perfectly in place thanks to his gel. But something had been taken out of him somewhere between disappearing and coming back.

“Max—”

“What happened?”

She and Nessa spoke at the same time like they usually did, the words tangling together as the door clicked shut behind him.

Neither got an answer.

Max walked past them without so much as a glance in their direction, movements steady but strangely absent, like his body had remembered the route while the rest of him lagged behind. He reached his desk, pulled the chair back, and sat heavily into it.

Then he put a hand over his eyes.

Jessica exchanged a look with her sister.

Max liked being watched. Maybe not personally, but politically, socially, and strategically. He understood attention, so usually every gesture was intentional, meant to project something.

This hadn’t been.

The room stayed quiet except for the distant sounds of the city outside the windows. Jessica became aware of little things she normally filtered out automatically: the ticking wall clock, Nessa shifting her weight beside her, and Max breathing slowly.

He knew they were staring at him. She could tell by the slight tension in his jaw. He also knew they wouldn’t leave without answers. So eventually he sighed into his hand, loud and drawn out before dragging it down his face.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded flatter than she’d ever heard it.

“The Empire ends today.”

Jessica blinked. Beside her, Nessa actually laughed once in disbelief before catching herself.

“What?” she asked.

“Why?” Jessica said at nearly the same time.

Max leaned back slightly in the chair, eyes fixed somewhere past the desk.

“Superman.”

One word, and Jessica felt her stomach sink almost immediately. Next to her, Nessa exhaled roughly through her nose, tension bleeding from her shoulders in a way that had nothing to do with relief. More like understanding arriving all at once.

Of course.

Jessica had seen the footage from the stage cameras, and had seen Superman standing there across from Max, looking at him like he already knew how the conversation would end. Then both of them had vanished, and now Max was sitting here talking about ending the Empire like it was already decided.

“Still,” Jessica said carefully, “there are those who won't agree with this.”

Max didn’t even look at her. “I know.”

“Hookwolf definitely won’t,” Nessa added. “Krieg either.”

That finally got a reaction, though barely. Max’s mouth twitched with something too tired to really qualify as irritation.

“Then they can deal with the alien themselves.”

Jessica frowned slightly at that, especially as Max sighed again, rubbing at his temple now.

“I want no part in whatever stupidity comes next,” he muttered. “If they want to provoke him after this, they do it without dragging everyone else down with them.”

Silence settled over the room again, and Jessica studied him carefully.

There was fear there, buried deep and pressed down hard enough that most people probably wouldn’t notice. But she did. She had worked for him long enough to know what he looked like when he felt cornered.

And because part of her was afraid too.

Nessa spoke before Jessica could.

“What happened between you and Superman?”

For a moment Max said nothing at all. Jessica wondered if he even would. Then he shook his head once.

“It doesn’t matter.”

The answer came too quickly, which meant it mattered a great deal. But before either of them could press him further, Max pushed himself to his feet.

The exhaustion was gone from his posture now, hidden back beneath that familiar controlled composure he wore like armor.

“Call everyone,” he said, his gaze moving toward the windows overlooking Brockton Bay. “We’re done.”