It was past midnight, but the city was still full of life.

Catherine sighed and leaned her head on the cool surface of the car pane. Even with her eyes closed, she could see the flashing of neon lights that were flying by. The good mood was slowly starting to fade, she was feeling dizzy. Maybe taking the cab home wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Can we open a window, please?"

"Just a second," the driver silenced her, increasing the volume on the radio.

"…that was held in Wayne manor this evening to honor our new public holiday. Harvey Dent will always be remembered as a hero who made Gotham what it is today: a safe and peaceful city where our citizens can live without fear. Commissioner Gordon…"

"How was it?" he asked.

"The party?" She opened her eyes, but regretted it instantly. "Okay, I guess. Full of people too self-important for my liking, with their fancy words and fake smiles and clothes I will never be able to buy or wear. Oh, and far too much booze. You didn't miss anything," she smiled to the driver.

"Is that so?" he chuckled. "You must be happy you're going home than. Did we say the thirteenth Baker's street?"

"That's right. Take the left turn and you can leave me at the bus stop."

He stopped the car and she quickly pulled the wallet out of her bag.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Good night, miss."

She walked down the street, holding her handbag tightly. Gotham was truly safer now, but you never know.

The city was slowly going to sleep: she could hear the distant sound of traffic and laughter from the nearest fast food restaurant. It started to rain again, and Catherine ran, cursing her high heels and her dress and that last glass of wine that will- with no doubt- cause her magnificent hangover in the morning.

By the time she reached her apartment, she was freezing. With trembling fingers, she finally managed to open the door, but as she stepped in, a noise startled her. For a second she thought it was the fire alarm, and she hurried to her living room fully dressed and with her shoes still on, but it was only a phone. Apparently, somebody was trying to call her since eight o'clock in the evening, and he was very persistent.

Catherine stood still for a moment, not sure what to do. Part of her just wanted to ignore the ringing and go to bed, hoping it will eventually stop, but she knew that the call must be important. The telephone number was unknown, which was strange; but curiosity defeated her suspicion.

"Hi, who is there?" she asked.

"Catherine! Thank God… are you okay?"

She nearly dropped the phone.

"Cole?"

"Yes, it's me! Listen…"

Anger hit her like a hammer.

"How the hell did you get my number?!"

"Cathy…"

"Look, I don't even want to know. Just…"

She wanted to end the phone call, but something stopped her from doing so. Maybe she already sensed fear in his voice, maybe it was the feeling that everything is going to change. But when she looked back years later she knew that nothing would have been different.

"Listen to me very carefully, all right? You need to get away…"

"What?"

"Pack some clothes, take all your money and go. Get out, right now. Do you have a car?"

"N- no, Ellen gave me a lift, but I came home with a taxi-"

"Okay. Call another one, drive around the city until morning and then go straight to the airport."

She felt like she couldn't breathe, fear overwhelming her. Where was she supposed to go?

"Please, just tell me what's happening…"

And suddenly, the light went out.

Catherine froze, her heart trying to escape her chest. Tears were in her eyes, but she was desperately trying to steady her breathing and be as still as possible.

"Cole?" she whispered, but the telephone was dead too. And then she heard it: a low, hissing sound, like some hydraulic device or a soft breeze of wind, or perhaps someone breathing through a respirator …

The tension was finally too much and she burst in tears, hands pressed to her trembling lips to keep her from screaming. Her thoughts were spinning in circles. No one's here, it can't be, you didn't hear them enter! Calm down and run for the door, you can make it…

The door.

She forgot to lock the door…

"Catherine Reese."

The voice was cold, mechanical and underlined with so much disgust that it made her shiver. Yet she kept quiet and stared into the darkness, silently calculating. All the fear was suddenly gone, replaced with a tiny ray of hope. If only she could sneak past the intruder…

"That wouldn't be wise," hissed the same voice, this time just behind her, and the last thing she remembered before someone hit her in the head and sent her into another kind of darkness, was a hand almost gently wrapping around her throat.