Even after all this time, Bruce could still recognize Richard’s handwriting. He reread the words. Richard could not have known that Bruce was the suited figure inside the concert hall.Could he?Had he recognized Bruce’s fighting style, or his voice? Bruce shook his head, light-headed at the thought, and for a moment, he pictured Richard taken into custody at the police precinct. Would Richard reveal Bruce’s identity to the police?
It would certainly match Richard’s category. Vengeful, bitter, taunting, eager to see Bruce punished a second time. But Bruce sat and studied the message.Thank you.
Somewhere in those simple words, he thought, was a silent promise to keep Bruce’s secret.
The chaos of the previous night all came back to him now. “I feel like I’m not really here, Alfred,” Bruce admitted.
“I know,” Alfred said gently. “Give yourself time to heal from all that’s happened.” He sighed, then studied his young ward. “I feel as if I may have trouble keeping you out of harm’s way, Master Wayne, even though you’ve proven yourself capable of handling it.”
Bruce thought back to the feeling of Madeleine lying limp in his arms. His head still felt fuzzy, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask Alfred what the police would do with her body. Where she would be buried. “I don’t think I’ve proven much,” Bruce said.
Alfred gave him a pointed look. “Just try not to give me too many heart attacks. I’m not getting any younger.”
The doorbell echoed. Alfred looked at Bruce a moment longer, then rose and headed in to answer the door. Bruce turned his attention back to staring out at the courtyard, until the sound of familiar voices reached his ears. He glanced over his shoulder.
It was Dianne and Harvey, both bearing gifts. Harvey had an extra backpack slung over his black jacket, his blond hair slicked back and a grin on his face. Dianne looked more reserved—healthy and relatively unharmed, even relaxed in a baggy white sweater and striped tights. There was a pensive, haunted light in her brown eyes, but when she saw Bruce, she lit up and straightened.
Bruce abandoned his dark mood at the sight of them.
“I can’t believe you’re already back on your feet!” Harvey exclaimed, grabbing Bruce’s outstretched hand and pulling him in for a hug. He patted Bruce a little too hard, making him wince and laugh. “I heard one of the SWAT team members ended up fighting it out on the roof with the Wallace siblings—heard thatyouhad something to do with helping the police find a way into the building. It’s all such a mess; no one’s really sure what happened? But hell, I’d be spending the rest of the month in bed, streaming movies and polishing off pizzas.”
Bruce pulled away and turned to embrace Dianne. “Well, consideringyouactually survived being a hostage,” he said, “I don’t have much of an excuse.”
Dianne wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight. “Thank you, Bruce,” she said. “I don’t know if I’d be here right now if you hadn’t helped the police.”
Bruce closed his eyes and hugged her back. She didn’t seem to know that he was the one behind the black helmet, that he had been there on the balcony with her, had seen her frightened face. It all seemed so surreal. “Glad you came over,” he replied.
“The police don’t quite know what to do about you, you know,” Dianne said as they settled into chairs beside him. Alfred brought out more eggs and toast, and two more mugs of coffee. “The news reported this morning that the Nightwalkers broke you out of jail to force you to give up your account passwords.”
Bruce exchanged a look of relief with Harvey. Harvey still didn’t seem entirely comfortable with breaking the law, but Bruce didn’t think he would go running to the precinct to turn himself in, either.
“And your clever trick saved the day,” Dianne went on. “But then there was the whole thing with, well…” She hesitated. “With Madeleine’s letter. GCPD is still trying to figure out whether or not to send you to court again.”
“They’d be fools to charge you for anything, Bruce,” Harvey said. “And you know what that means, coming from me.”
Somehow, none of it—the police’s indecision, the possibility of a trial—felt like it mattered.
As always, Dianne noticed the shift in Bruce’s mood. She nodded at his eggs and toast, neither of which he’d touched, and her face sobered. “Are you going to be okay? I know…it must be hard, after everything that happened yesterday.” She held out one of her hands, and Bruce saw that it still shook uncontrollably. “I’m hoping this will go away soon. Someday.”
“Someday,” Bruce replied with a nod, his thoughts lingering on Madeleine. He could still see her body framed by floodlights, still feel the way she’d trembled against him as he held her. It replayed over and over in his mind. He shook his head. He was not the only one traumatized from the previous night. Many people were also picking up the pieces this morning.
Harvey leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I think you might have to resign yourself to being forever on Gotham City’s front pages,” he said, even though his words were tinged with a note of sadness. “All they want is the latest scoop on your story. They’re trying to grab interviews with everyone who even remotely knows you. The tabloids are already making up their own stories about what really happened.”
“Shameless.” Dianne shook her head. “You’re going to have to wear a mask or something to avoid this circus around you.”
Bruce wondered what she’d say if she knew about his suit. His attention shifted back to Harvey. He nodded at the backpack his friend was carrying with him. “Hey,” he said. “What’s that for?”
Harvey looked at him, then took a deep breath. “So,” he began hesitantly. “Remember how I turned my dad in?”
Dianne smiled in anticipation of what Harvey was about to say, but Bruce was silent, remembering Harvey’s words as he helped Bruce break out of the precinct. He nodded, waiting for Harvey to continue. “Well, it looks like he’s going to get some prison time. So I was wondering—that is—” Harvey’s voice caught for a moment as he struggled to get the words out. “I was wondering if it’d be okay with you—if I stayed at your place. Just for a while—just for a few weeks until college starts in the fall. I have most of my stuff with me.” He nodded at his small, worn backpack. “Of course, if that’s too much trouble—”
Bruce’s eyes widened a little. Harvey was finally,finally,leaving his father behind. For good.
Harvey looked like he was about to start stammering out an apology, but Bruce leaned forward and stopped him with a steady stare. “Stay,” he replied. “Stay as long as you want.”
Harvey hesitated a moment longer. “Figured I should be a little brave, too,” he said.
Bruce put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You’re braver than I’ve ever been.”
