“You should look at your texts.”

Pippa stares confusedly. Salen never texted a complete sentence. There’s even punctuation. Something is wrong.

She quickly pulls up her messages. There are social media notifications that show she has been tagged in a lot of posts.

Clicking on one, she is brought to an Instagram post from an account she recognizes. It is for her school newspaper which is run by this girl named Tandy.

“Beacon, Lavender High’s very own teenage superhero, is closer than we think?” She reads the caption out loud.

Her own account is tagged.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

This canNOT be happening.

“Click the link to learn more about who Beacon actually is.”

Her thumb hovers over the link, shaking so much she actually misses it the first time. She feels rattled. A thousand thoughts are racing through her mind.

She taps it on her second try.

“Beacon may be a student at our very high school. I did an in-depth investigation and here’s what I found,” she stops to breathe. Her lungs are seizing up.

“As we all knew, Beacon is a teenage superhero. Black hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and around 5’1. With her frequency around the jewelry store and other sites of crime, she lives in the area. Then I cross referenced those characteristics with everyone in the school. That’s how I narrowed it down to Pippa Folly.”

Her identity is out. That means everyone knows. The villains could know. Find her name and where she lives. Her family.

“Pippa is both shocking and not so when you think about it. She is nice enough. Quiet. A perfect low profile for a masked hero. She is smart. Fourth in our class. And now she can add superhero to her college applications.”

She goes back to the Instagram post and looks at the comments.

“There’s no way it’s her!”

“I knew it!”

“It’s always the quiet ones!”

“Wow she’s Beacon? I expected her to be prettier.”

As a stream of texts come in from Salen and others that she never even knew she had the numbers of, Cotton’s name pops out to her.

Without even thinking, she clicks on his contact and calls him.

It takes about two seconds for him to pick up.

“Tink! What do you need?” He asks. Her heart melts a little. He knows her so well. He could have asked her how she was, but he knows that she’s not doing well. Using that inquiry would just make her annoyed, so he chose to ask her what she needed instead.

“I don’t know, Cotton. I don’t know. What can I do?” She rambles, her voice quivering.

“Do you have an idea of what would be best?” There is a silence following her question.

“I think you have two main options. Either refute it or own it.”

She mulls over the words like tasteless gum in her mouth.

“Refruting would mean somehow proving it isn’t you. Even if people didn’t believe her, with no proof either way, people are going to believe what they want.”

“And owning it?” Her voice timid but more even now. “That would mean you declaring that you are Beacon to everyone. Proudly. Unbashedly.”

“Cotton, what about my mom? Or Salen? They can’t get hurt because people know who I am.” The possibilities are running in her mind. There can’t just be these two.

“I’m sorry, Tink.”

But he’s right. If she rebukes it, people are going to demand evidence. If only there was someone else who could take her place. Long enough to appease the school.

An idea creeps its way into her thoughts. It’s so sudden that she almost forgets she’s on the phone.

“There is another option, but you’re not going to like it.”

It takes a moment before he catches on. When he does, he is not happy. “No. You are not going to ask a favor of him! Morph is a psycho!”

“But he can morph into Beacon! I can provide the light from afar and no one will be none the wiser! It’s a solution,” Pippa insists, almost begging for his approval.

“He’s venomous. You don’t want to owe him.”

She shook her head even though he can’t see it. “I don’t have a choice. I can’t say I’m not Beacon. Not with Tandy’s eyes on me. I can’t own it without putting those around me in danger. This is the best option.”

“Not for you,” he says in a last ditch attempt.

“Exactly. I can’t do what’s best for me. It’s not about me.”

There is a sigh in the other line. He knows there’s no changing her mind anymore. “If that’s your choice. I can’t stop you, but I’m begging you. Take me with you when you meet with him.”

“Ok.”

“Let’s go call up Morph.”