Chapter 131: The Truth Hurts
Dante stepped into the Cortex, twirling a fresh cigarette between his fingers, his usual swagger dampened by exhaustion.
"Okay, I woke up in a janitor closet because apparently I sleepwalk when I'm depressed. Anyone got coffee—"
But before he could finish, Barry grabbed his arm.
"Whoa!" Dante stumbled, nearly tripping as Barry rushed him through the hall. "Dude—I'm human now. Fragile. Bones snap, you know."
Barry didn't answer.
He didn't slow down.
The doors to STAR Labs opened with a sharp hiss of compressed air as Barry dragged Dante outside, into the quiet sunlit courtyard behind the building.
He finally let go.
"I need answers," Barry said, his voice flat, tired, but urgent.
Dante raised a brow. "About what?"
"When you said something was off about Patty… what exactly did you mean?"
Dante exhaled slowly, flicking the unlit cigarette away. "I don't know, man. It felt like… it was her, and not her. The way she moved. The way she smiled. Her scent, even. It was off. Like she was playing the role of Patty—but the real thing wasn't behind the mask."
Barry stared, processing. "Okay… okay. So how do we find out if it's really her?"
Dante's playful tone dropped. His voice became hard. "You believe me now, don't you?"
Barry nodded. "I saw it. In the mirror. When she passed by anything reflective… there was nothing. Like the mirror was rejecting her."
Dante's eyes narrowed, then drifted down to the ground.
Barry stepped forward, his voice quieter. "If she's not my wife… if Patty's somewhere out there, trapped or worse… I need to know. I need to find her."
Silence passed between them. Only the wind stirred the leaves nearby.
Dante finally looked up. "There's one way to find out."
Barry's eyes lit up. "What is it?"
Dante hesitated. "You're not gonna like it."
"Tell me."
He took a breath, then said it plainly:
"Torture."
Barry blinked. "What?"
"I'm not proud of it," Dante said, looking away. "Back when I thought my little brother was murdered by a gang, I did terrible things to people to get answers. I needed the truth. I didn't care how. And I always got it."
Barry shook his head. "You're saying we… hurt her?"
Dante held up a hand. "If she's really Patty, I'll know. If she's not… whatever's pretending to be her will slip. Under pain, they always do. That's how you crack a mask—by stress testing it."
Barry turned away, gripping his head. "I can't hurt her. Not even a version of her. I can't."
"I'm not asking you to," Dante said. "I'll do it. Just give me five minutes alone with her. Five. That's all it takes."
Barry looked torn, broken between love and truth.
"She kissed me like Patty," he whispered. "She laughed. She remembered our inside jokes. But her reflection… her eyes…"
Dante stepped closer. "You want me to be wrong, I get it. But deep down, you know something's already gone. And if she is trapped somewhere, what happens the longer we wait?"
Barry didn't respond.
His silence was answer enough.
---
Later that night…
Barry came home late, heart pounding in his chest.
He stepped into the living room where Patty was curled up on the couch, a blanket over her legs, reading a book.
She looked up and smiled. "Hey, babe. You okay?"
Barry forced a smile. "Yeah. Just tired. Long day."
She patted the couch beside her. "Come sit. I saved your spot."
Barry sat.
But he didn't touch her.
She leaned on him slightly, resting her head on his shoulder.
And all he could think about was the reflection that didn't show.
---
The next morning
Dante waited in the Cortex, pacing.
Barry walked in, face pale.
"She's going for coffee. She'll be back in fifteen."
Dante nodded. "Then I'll be ready."
Barry looked at him. "Don't go too far."
"I won't," Dante said. "Unless she gives me a reason to."
---
Fifteen minutes later
Patty walked into STAR Labs with two coffees, humming softly.
"Hey boys," she said with a smile. "Got your lattes. Cisco still hates oat milk, but he's wrong."
Dante approached slowly. "Mind if I steal her for a sec, Barry?"
Barry hesitated. Then nodded. "Just for a minute."
Patty blinked. "Everything okay?"
Dante smiled. "Just some personal questions. Barry's shy."
She followed him into one of the side labs.
He closed the door gently behind them.
Then locked it.
Patty turned slowly. "What's going on, Dante?"
Dante's face changed. The charm dropped. He moved with the same cold, measured stillness he once used in war zones and dark alleys.
He pulled out a pocketknife.
Patty stiffened.
"What is that?" she asked, voice suddenly sharper.
Dante didn't answer.
He stepped forward. "You're going to tell me who you really are."
"I'm Patty, you lunatic."
He grabbed her arm, fast. Unnaturally fast for someone with no powers.
Her skin didn't react. No flinch. No warmth.
She smiled. But the smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Wrong answer," Dante said.
And pressed the blade into her palm.
There was no blood.
The skin split… and behind it was shimmering glass.
Like she was made of mirrored water.
She hissed—and her eyes flashed silver for a split second.
Dante didn't flinch.
"You're not her."
"Neither are you," she whispered back, voice distorted.
He twisted the blade—and her form shimmered, cracking like a fractured screen.
Barry burst in the moment her illusion broke fully—revealing a woman made of living mirror, her mouth curled in fury.
Barry froze.
Dante stepped back, holding the blade. "Told you."
Barry stared at her—at the thing wearing Patty's face.
"Where is she?" Barry whispered.
Mirror-Patty just smiled.
And then shattered into a thousand reflective shards, scattering across the floor.
Gone.
---
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