**Chapter 10: A Ray of Hope**
**348 Hyperion Avenue**
When they returned home two hours later, they didn’t feel much better, except for the small satisfaction of having written an article that would please their editor-in-chief.
Ultrawoman was already back and hadn’t bothered to change. She was sitting on the windowsill, staring blankly into space. They approached her, hoping to offer some comfort. Lois took her hand.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Ultrawoman shook her head, tired, then changed her mind.
“It was horrible. The water was red, and those two bodies were just lying there. They were disfigured by the water, their eyes fixed, filled with terror, frozen forever. Once we got them to shore, we saw they had been executed. And when I learned who they were…it felt like all hope had been ripped away from me.”
No one said a word as she spoke. Her tears began to fall, quickly followed by Lois’s and Clark’s. They embraced each other, seeking comfort in their hug and their shared love.
After a few minutes, Lois suddenly stood up. An idea had sprung into her mind. Clark and Ultrawoman looked at her questioningly.
“All is not lost! We know who our suspects are, and even though questioning them would have helped, they’re not indispensable. We just need to find where they lived, and maybe we’ll find the weapon there.”
The light of hope started to return to the faces of the three companions. Clark was the first to respond.
“I’ll grab the laptop to search for places where they might have hidden.”
“I’ll leave you for five minutes; I desperately need a shower. The water was disgusting,” said Ultrawoman.
“Five minutes? That’s slow; Superman usually doesn’t take more than fifteen seconds,” Lois teased, winking at Clark.
When she came back downstairs, Lois and Clark were engrossed in the laptop screen. They were examining an information file on the two suspects. On the left, Michael Brown, born on May 24, 1957, had a long criminal history that included armed robbery, pimping, and numerous stints in prison. He was also suspected of having ties to Intergang, but the evidence was lacking. On the right, Oliver Brown, born in 1960, had been a sniper in the army, twice decorated as an American Sniper. His career had ended abruptly in January 1991 when he was court-martialed for treason after refusing to shoot Iraqi targets designated by his superiors. Released after four years in prison, he had seen his wife leave with their five-year-old child and disappear completely.
Ultrawoman, with her superpowers, had quickly absorbed the information.
She broke the silence.
“No known addresses?”
“None,” Lois replied.
“Past addresses?” asked Ultrawoman.
“There’s the address of Oliver’s ex-wife, but it’s unlikely he went back there,” Clark answered. “But she might have some useful information.”
“It’s worth a try. It’s our only lead anyway,” Lois agreed.
**Livia Johnson’s House**
The next morning, bright and early, Lois and Clark stood in front of a small blue house, typical of a nice suburban neighborhood, with a perfectly manicured lawn and impeccably trimmed rose bushes. The serene appearance of the house contrasted sharply with the seriousness of their mission.
A man opened the door, looking slightly irritated but remaining polite.
“Hello, does Livia Johnson live here?” Lois asked.
“Who’s asking?”
“Lois Lane and Clark Kent from the *Daily Planet*,” Lois replied, showing her press badge.
The man glanced at their IDs and nodded.
“This isn’t a good time. Livia is busy explaining to her son that he’ll never see his father again…”
Lois felt the weight of the situation and added, “We’re really sorry to intrude, but we’re investigating her ex-husband’s death. We thought she might be able to help us with some information.”
“I understand, but it’s a difficult time. I’ll pass on your message.”
Before the man could close the door, a young boy, about eight years old, with tear-stained eyes, approached.
“Are you here to find the person who killed my dad?” he asked, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
Clark crouched down to the boy’s level.
“Yes, we’re trying to find out what happened to your father. Can you help us by telling us what you know?”
The boy nodded, eager to cooperate.
“Sure, I want to help.”
Lois and Clark were invited inside. They sat in the living room, where Livia, seated with her son Jake, was waiting for them. Clark and Lois exchanged a glance before starting their questions.
“Jake, when was the last time you saw your dad?” Lois asked gently.
“Five days ago, we went to the fair!” Jake’s eyes brightened with happy memories. “We ate ice cream, and I even got to go on the Top Spin!”
“Did you go to his place?” asked Lois.
“No, I’ve never been to his place. He said it was better to enjoy the sunshine outside.”
“Did anything seem different or strange since that day?” Clark asked.
“No, everything was normal. After that, he won me a Superman doll at the shooting gallery. Do you want to see it?”
“Of course, sweetie,” Lois agreed.
Jake stood up and went upstairs. The man who had opened the door, James, followed him, leaving Lois and Clark alone with Livia to ask more questions. Livia started speaking.
“He didn’t want to bring him to his place. He kept telling me it wasn’t a neighborhood for kids. He was such a good father, but he lost his way after the trial and prison. He refused to let me visit him in prison; he became more and more distant. He broke up with me after two years in prison and refused any visits. But for Jake’s sake, I did everything I could to reunite them when he got out.”
“Do you know what he was doing after his release?” Lois asked.
“Officially, no. He never talked about himself, but I overheard a conversation once, probably with his brother. They were arguing, whispering, but I think it wasn’t something legal. They talked about neutralizing, about escape…”
“His brother Michael?” Clark asked.
“Yes. I never met Michael, but I know he had run-ins with the law. Oliver always tried to keep his distance from him, but they were in touch sometimes.”
“Do you know his or his brother’s address?” Clark asked gently.
“Yes, I think I have it somewhere, on the last alimony check.”
Livia searched through a drawer and quickly found the address, which she wrote down.
“Here you go. I hope it helps you figure things out. Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”
Livia’s tone indicated she wanted to end the conversation. Clark and Lois stood up, and Clark took the address, slipping it into his jacket pocket.
Jake came back downstairs at that moment, holding his Superman doll in a classic pose, arms crossed. He handed it to Clark.
“Look, it’s awesome! His eyes light up red, and he flies! And if I press here, he talks!”
The doll emitted a deep, heroic voice: “I fight for truth and justice.”
Clark smiled, touched by the demonstration.
Jake continued, “Did you see? It’s awesome! Do you know Superman?”
Clark smiled, slightly uncomfortable.
“Yes, I’ve met him.”
“And you?” Jake asked, looking at Lois.
“Yes, I meet him sometimes during our investigations,” Lois replied with a smile.
Jake, his eyes shining, asked, “Do you think he could help find who killed my dad?”
Clark crouched down to Jake again.
“I’m sure he’ll do everything he can to help you.”
And Clark made a silent promise to bring justice to the young boy who was far too young to be an orphan.
Lois and Clark thanked Livia and Jake for their time and left the house. Once outside, Ultrawoman joined them in a flash.
“Did you get the address?”
“Yes, Clark has it in his pocket,” Lois replied.
Ultrawoman quickly moved over and started rummaging through Clark’s jacket. Clark laughed at the situation—it was pretty amusing, a superhero going through his pockets. He had to brace himself to avoid falling backward because of her speed. She finally found the address and exclaimed, “Yes!” She quickly unfolded the paper and read it. “Butler Street, it’s in Oaktown. At this time of day, we’ll get there faster by flying. Shall I take you?”
She didn’t wait for their answer and whisked them up into the sky.
