Barry Cartwright leaned back in his oversized chair—one of the few pieces of furniture in his basement that hadn’t broken under his weight. It was reinforced steel, custom-made after too many shattered wooden chairs. Across from him, his sister Mary sipped her wine, while her husband, Jimmy, leaned against the basement bar.

  Sarah, Mary’s sixteen-year-old daughter, sat cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through her phone. “You should totally be a superhero,” she said without looking up. “Like, full-time. People already think you are.”

  Barry smirked. “Yeah, because being broke and risking my life every day sounds like a great career move.”

  Mary nodded. “She’s got a point, though. You’re already in the public eye. You could use that to do some good.”

  Jimmy, ever the pragmatist, shook his head. “Problem is, superheroes don’t get paid. Unless you’re selling merch or doing endorsements, being a hero doesn’t exactly cover the bills.”

  Barry let out a sigh. “And I’m not exactly subtle. Even with the makeup and paint tricks, I’d be outed eventually.” He flexed his metal fingers, watching the dull gleam of his aluminum-coated skin. “I need a plan that actually makes sense.”

  Mary tapped her nails against her glass. “What about opening your own law firm?”

  Barry raised an eyebrow. “You think people would hire a lawyer who looks like a statue?”

  “You’ve already got a reputation,” she pointed out. “People know you win cases. And let’s be real—there are probably a lot of supers out there who need legal help right now.”

  Jimmy nodded. “She’s right. You know the law, and if the government starts cracking down on supers, they’ll need someone who understands both sides.”

  Sarah perked up. “Ooh! You could be like the Superhero Lawyer! That would be so cool.”

  Barry chuckled. “Let’s put a pin in the name for now.”

  The Government Question

  Jimmy crossed his arms. “There’s another option.”

  Barry glanced at him. “Let me guess—talk to the government?”

  Jimmy nodded. “You’ve got a one-of-a-kind ability. There’s no way the NSA, CIA, or FBI haven’t noticed what you did with that truck. If they haven’t come knocking yet, it’s only a matter of time.”

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  Mary frowned. “And what, they just offer him a job? Or lock him in a lab?”

  Jimmy held up his hands. “Look, I’m not saying trust them blindly, but there could be an opportunity there. They will come looking for you eventually. It might be better to reach out on your terms instead of waiting for them to make the first move.”

  Barry ran a hand down his face, feeling the smooth metal surface beneath the gloves. “I don’t know. I’ve spent six months trying to stay out of the spotlight. Going to the government seems like inviting a whole new level of problems.”

  Sarah tilted her head. “But what if they could help you? Maybe they have records of other supers. Maybe they even know why this is happening.”

  That gave Barry pause. Ever since the solar eclipse, supers had been popping up all over the country—especially in New York City. He had spent so much time focusing on controlling his strength that he hadn’t thought much about why this was happening.

  He looked at Mary. “What do you think?”

  She sighed. “Honestly? I don’t like the idea of you getting involved with the government. Too many unknowns. But… if they have information that could help you, it might be worth a conversation.”

  Jimmy shrugged. “Worst-case scenario, you walk away.”

  Barry exhaled. “Or they don’t let me.”

  No one spoke for a moment. The thought lingered—if he walked into a government facility, would they let him walk out?

  The Law Firm Plan

  Barry rubbed his chin. “Let’s assume I don’t go to the government. How hard would it be to start my own firm?”

  Mary brightened. “That’s the spirit. You’ve already got the credentials, and you know plenty of people in the legal world. You just need a space, a license, and a few clients to start.”

  Jimmy smirked. “And maybe some reinforced furniture.”

  Sarah giggled. “And a cool name. Like Cartwright & Associates: Superhuman Legal Defense.”

  Barry laughed. “I don’t know if I want ‘Superhuman’ in the name. Might be a little too on-the-nose.”

  Mary leaned forward. “But you should market toward supers. Think about it—who else is going to represent them? You could be the first lawyer for supers, by a super.”

  Jimmy nodded. “And you’d be working on your own terms. No firm politics. No one to fire you just because of what you are.”

  Barry considered it. It did make sense. If supers were becoming more common, legal issues were bound to follow. People getting fired, arrested, sued, or worse just for being what they were. He could be the one to help them.

  It wasn’t the career path he had imagined, but maybe it was the one he needed.

  Making the Decision

  Barry leaned back again, staring at the ceiling. “So those are my choices: play hero for free, risk dealing with the government, or start my own firm.”

  Mary tilted her head. “Or you could do a mix. Start the firm but keep your options open. If something big happens, you can still step in.”

  Jimmy shrugged. “And if the government does come calling, at least you’ll have something established.”

  Sarah grinned. “And you’ll look way cooler than some guy in a suit working for the feds.”

  Barry chuckled. “That’s a fair point.”

  He glanced at Mary, then Jimmy, then Sarah. They had stood by him through all of this, never once treating him like a freak. If they believed in him, maybe it was time he started believing in himself.

  He took a deep breath—not that he needed to breathe anymore, but it helped settle his thoughts.

  “Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s do it. I’m starting my own firm.”

  Mary grinned. “That’s my brother.”

  Jimmy clapped him on the back—then winced. “Ow. Still gotta work on that.”

  Sarah fist-pumped. “Yes! First super-lawyer ever! This is gonna be awesome.”

  Barry smiled. For the first time since losing his job, he felt like he had a real direction again.

  It was time to stop hiding.

  It was time to build something new.