She forced a smile on her bloody face. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you…”
I stood up. I smiled and puffed out my chest. “Fierce, ma’am,” I said, proudly. “My name is Fierce.” 4
I sped away before the authorities pulled up. Something told me that, despite my saving the woman’s life, the cops wouldn’t have been happy that I did their job—a teenager, that is, a teenager in a onesie, however fetching said onesie might’ve been. Plus, how would I explain my strength, my even being there so quickly. It was a double-edged sword, really. I wanted to be a superhero, but I couldn’t be outabout it.
So, I exited, stage right, running into Craig halfway back. “Well?” he shouted at me.