It was another gray morning in Gotham, as usual, due to pollution. There was nothing out of the ordinary occurring: the traffic was slow, beggars walked around at random, begging alms, drunks fell into the gutters and hurried people went to work.
Nobody knew, though, that in the local cemetery, at that very moment, one of the city's most famous and feared figures was being buried.
There was a little bit of mist in the place, or maybe it was just smoke, the fact is that the environment was dreadful and almost deserted. Gathered around an open grave, next to an old gravedigger, were the Commissioner Gordon, his daughter, Barbara, doctor Leslie Thompkins, Red Robin and Batman himself.
The Dark Knight found himself without reaction at the time. He knew that Edward Nygma, better known as The Riddler, was sick, but never imagined that he would die. He felt that maybe he should feel relieved or happy, but it was nothing like that. He felt something like guilt, or maybe anger at himself. If he had not sent The Riddler to Arkham, would he be alive yet? Could have gone after a cure for cancer alone? Probably, but at what cost? He would have stolen, killed and caused even more disorder in Gotham, and Batman couldn't let this happen. And he also had hope that The Riddler would be reformed in Arkham, maybe even go back to work on the GCPD. His psychiatrist had said he was getting better, but that was shortly before he supposedly lost his mind and stabbed the psychiatrist with a modified spoon.
The gravedigger lastly threw dirt on top of the coffin and little by little they all dispersed.
– I know what you're thinking, and no, it wasn't your fault. He drew that to himself. Who knows how things could have been different if he had never become The Riddler? – The Commissioner Gordon patted the Bat's shoulder.
– Forget it, okay? Focus on other problems. – said Barbara, trying to comfort him.
– Yeah, The Riddler is gone, go to other – laughed Tim Drake, but he turned quiet when he noticed the expression on Batman's face. – See you later, then – and saying that, he jumped on the branch of a tree, threw a hook into a building and disappeared.
– I know I should worry about other things… But I can't help feeling that I haven't done my duty in any way. – Batman said neutrally.
– You worry too much – Barbara touched his arm lightly and said goodbye with a "See you". The Commissioner helped her by pushing her wheelchair down the rocky path.
Batman watched the scene, remembering that the man who had put his friend on a wheelchair was one of the Gotham's few villains who still were on the run. Not for long, he thought, feeling ready to catch him at the slightest glide.
[…]
A woman was hurrying through the streets full of people, tall, crowded buildings. In fact, her red hair (almost orange) flew in the wind, it was a cold day in Gotham City, she was wearing a large black overcoat, when she finally entered one of the several buildings.
"Gotham Gazette"
She stopped in front of the reception desk, with a big smile on her face. There was an old lady sitting across the table, she just lifted her gaze to her, lowering her glasses with her right hand.
– How can I help you? – Asked the old lady with gray hair and gray eyes, she wore a black suit, with a discreet skirt.
– Well, I received a job offer here, I just need to do the interview, and this is the time, ma'am. – She replied, her smile was from ear to ear, of so happy that the girl was.
– Oh, what's your name, miss? – She asked.
– Hannah McLean. – The redhead replied, accompanied by her own laughter of happiness.
– Miss McLean, if I was you, I would not be counting victory now, you have not even passed the interview yet. – The old lady commented, giving a paper to Hannah, where it was written which hall to go, all the details and even the time again, 7:30am.
– Well, I have a good feeling!
[…]
"Hello my pearl! Did you get the job?"
– I have to tell you, mom and dad… – Hannah replied sadly. She was at a local restaurant, lunching, was holding her cell phone, looking worried and very sad.
"Whatever it is, know that we will always support you, and you can still come back with your job here. They'd take you back in a heartbeat."
– But you'll not have to! Because I got the job! – She replied happily, then bringing the fork with salad to her mouth. – You're talking to a new Gotham journalist now, my dears! I start tomorrow! – She said, still with her mouth full. – After lunch I'll look for the apartment we rent here for me, it's good that everything is working! – Hannah said, so excited that she let out a little cry, catching everyone's attention in the restaurant. – Sorry…
Soon she returned to normal, said goodbye to her parents, put away her cell phone, and started watching TV while having lunch, when she saw, Joker was on TV, along with Harley Quinn. The two were being chased in a robbery by the Bat himself. They laughed wildly.
– This is the city I want to be in. – Hannah said, staring at them both, focused on the TV. Then she brought the cup of coffee to her mouth, because she was a coffee addict. Felt the bitter and hot taste and soon everything was okay.
[…]
Evelyn yawned while was shaping her nails. Unlike the others, she hated coffee and drank only tea in the morning. After all, after years and years of drinking the same watery, taste like powder coffee, it was even understandable. She looked out the window, trying to distract herself while the president was not yet there.
A few minutes later, Bruce Wayne finally appeared at the meeting room. Smiling happily, wished a good morning to everyone present and sat down on his chair at the end of the table. He smelled strongly of alcohol, what was weird, because Evelyn had already realized that he never drank, even at parties or meetings. Sometimes she suspected he was pretending to be more irresponsible than he really was.
When the meeting was over, Evelyn went out with Bruce and tried to talk to him.
– You were late, young man. Where were you all this time?
– I slept too much and lost the time. I went to a party yesterday, you know. – shrugged.
– Party? I didn't know of any party. By the way, have not you known that the Riddler has died? Looks like the funeral happened this morning. Thank goodness, a worm of those deserved something even worse than the asylum.
– Yes, yes, excuse me, Evelyn, I'll talk to you later.
Bruce walked away abruptly to his office. Poured a glass of water for him and went watch the city by the window. The dark, toxic smoke of Gotham was already forming a dense layer of dirt on the glass again. Bruce sighed and took a sip of water. From there, people looked like helpless ants, but he didn't have to spend five minutes watching to catch a man stealing an old lady's purse. It seems that no matter how much I help, it will never be enough. It seems that nothing is going to change, thought.
Bruce sat in his comfy chair and picked up the newspaper of the day. The front page spoke of Riddler's death and something about the effects of pollution on the west side of the city. Angry, he crumpled the newspaper and tossed it straight into the trash can. Grabbed some files folders that were left on his desk and tried to work a little.
Hours passed, or maybe only a few minutes, when he woke up hearing a mess in the hallway. He left his office and walked there, finding an entrepreneur, whom he recognized as Carter, and Evelyn discussing while several people were watching.
– You're crazy! I don't know what she's talking about, guys, really, this woman is hysterical!
– Hysterical?! Your sadist, you tried to grab me!
– Can I know what's going on here? – asked Bruce, folding his arms, seriously.
– Bruce, thank goodness! – Evelyn ran up to him and practically threw herself into his arms. – This pervert tried to grab me in the elevator!
– This is a lie! – returned Carter.
– Enough! Get back to work, everyone! I'll investigate the filming of the elevator by myself, and if I notice any attempted harassment, I will take the necessary measures. Now get back to work, come on! – And saying this, Bruce returned to his office.
Everyone went back to work as if nothing had happened, Evelyn still with a slightly offended expression on her face but, when she came into her office, she let out a guffaw.
– This one is good… The disgusting Carter paid dearly for passing his hand over my ass, and Bruce even saw everything! After that, getting his trust will only be a matter of time… – Evelyn sat down on her chair and took the portrait of her father from the table. – Oh, daddy, you'd be so proud if you could see me now. – She kissed the picture and hugged it. – I will not disappoint you, I swear. No after all I've passed to get here.
Evelyn leaned back on her chair and rolled a lock of curling brown hair on her finger, thinking. She promised herself she would not think about those things again – it only make her feel sad –, but talking is easier than doing. When she realized, she was already immersed in memories.
It was a cold, rainy morning when Evelyn Nichols arrived in Gotham. The bus she picked up stopped at all points and was packed with strange, bad-faced people. She got her only suitcase and hurried downstairs as soon she stopped at the local bus station. She didn't slept all the night, she was exhausted and all she wanted was to take a warm shower and go to bed but, when she arrived at the hotel that the Wayne Enterprises had booked, she could not be more anger. The bed creaked, the mattress was hard, the sink dripped and the shower was broken. Evelyn threw her suitcase into a corner, furious, and lay down on the bed, stifling a scream with the pillow.
– Keep my words, Bruce Wayne, you'll still suffer as I suffered and pay for everything you and your disgusting family did to us…
[…]
Hannah got in the elevator hastily. It was her first day at work. She could not be happier and nervous at the same time. The apartment she was living was not the best – only had one room and one bathroom – but nothing would be perfect for now. When she arrived at the apartment, the first thing she did was sleep, because the work would begin the other day, and now finally this day had arrived.
She went to her desk, where there was a note with her name, for her to know that such a desk was indeed hers. Well, that would avoid many confusion, of her part, as well as that of other new employees. She made a lot of noise with her high heels as she walked excitedly. She sat on her chair, placed a folder on the desk, and stood there, smiling like an insane. She could hardly believe that her dreams were slowly coming true.
– Hello! – said a young man with blond hair and green eyes, to Hannah. She had no idea where he came from. – Good morning!
– Good morning… – said Hannah, looking away, she was a little ashamed.
– My name is Castiel and I'm your "desk neighbor". – He introduced himself, laughing.
– Nice to meet you, I'm Hannah. – She held out her hand to him, and the two shook hands.
– Well, welcome to Gotham Gazette, Hannah. – And so, he disappeared from view again, heading toward the coffee machine.
Hannah opened her folder. She took out from inside of it a notepad, a pen with a pink pompom, and a portrait of her parents, Thomas and Anna McLean. She would miss them, but she had to follow her dreams. And she knew they would support her, always, because this means to be a family.
A tall and intimidating woman stepped out of the elevator and walked to the center of the large local, located on the building's eleventh floor, everyone went to their desks immediately. Hannah caught her eye on her, sure enough she was their boss.
– Good morning everyone, and welcome new employees. – She said, her voice serious and steady, as if nothing could shake her. – Well, we all know that some of our employees have been fired for not getting any history for some time, automatically, opening jobs for new employees. We know that this branch is very disputed, and I'm really grateful to the new journalists who have achieved this wonderful job. But, understand it, everything comes with a price, and you have to fight for articles, you have to fight for the front page of our newspaper. Cause if you don't fight, you'll be fired. – She paused, staring to the new journalists, including Hannah. – So, I want you all to find interesting stories this week, stories that make you worthwhile, both the ones that stay here and the new ones.
– But, Mrs. O'Donnell, with all due respect… – A redheaded woman began to speak, getting up from her chair. She was wearing a light yellow suit and a skirt of the same color. – The newspaper will not be the same, maybe for months, since all the "villains" so to speak are imprisoned, and the Riddler is dead. We will have to look for news even where they don't exist, since the city is practically standing still.
– Well, that's not my problem, miss Vale, that's why you're all here. Now, to work! – Mrs. O'Donnell went to her office, no more, no less.
Hannah sighed. She knew it would be difficult, but she did not think she'd be in Gotham right when the city was standing still. How could Gotham City stand still? Something had to happen, anything.
– Unbelievable! – Victoria Vale complained, sitting back on her chair.
– Calm down, Vicki, everything's gonna be alright... – A man next to her, another journalist, commented.
– I know, but, I'm just here for the sake of my profession! Cause if it depended on that shitty O'Donnell I would have left.
Hannah stopped paying attention to Vicki's conversation and tried to concentrate on her own work. She picked up her notepad and decided that she would go out for information, but before it, someone appeared in front of her as she was walking toward the elevator.
– Hi again, Hannah… – Castiel said nervously.
– Oh, hello. – She spoke, smiling.
– What will you do? – He asked curiously.
– I'm going to go out looking for some article, the best way to find things is by looking for them from the source.
– Good strategy. – He praised. – But I wanted to say something else... At lunchtime, do you want to have lunch with me?
– All right! So let's meet here again a few minutes before it.
– Done!
[…]
– I can't believe I didn't find anything, it never happened before... – Hannah commented, sitting at a table, Castiel was in front of her, they were having lunch at a restaurant he had chosen.
– Ah, relax, something is still going to happen. – Said Castiel, taking the burger to his mouth.
– I know, but it makes me nervous! – Hannah complained. – You know... I only have one week to prove that I can stay here, otherwise I'll have to go back to my home, and I don't want this. You've been working in Gotham Gazette for a while, haven't you?
– Yes, and I admit, the city has never been so quiet, the best news we have is about the death of a maniac and the pollution...
– How it's living here? I mean, isn't very dangerous?
– Sometimes it is, but we have to be careful, right? If we take care nothing bad can happen, that's what I think. – He replied with a shrug.
– Yes it's true. – Agreed Hannah. – But I need a story, anything, that will help me to stay here. If nothing happens this week, I'll be fired. I already said that, but it really makes me nervous...
– Mrs. O'Donnell makes everyone nervous, everything will work out, I believe in you... – He paused, analyzing what he had just said. – I mean, you have potential...
– Thank you, Castiel. – Hannah got up from the chair. – Excuse me, I'm going to the bathroom.
She walked away, went into the ladies room and closed the door, soon, Hannah went to the mirror, pulling her red lipstick from the pocket of her coat and passing it on her lips. Another woman came into the ladies room right after her, going to see herself in the mirror too.
– I know it's a lack of education... – Commented the wavy brown-haired woman as she passed a red lipstick too, almost the same tone as Hannah's. – But I heard your conversation.
– What did you hear? – Hannah asked a little frightened.
– Enough. I know you're a journalist and you urgently need a story.
– Sorry, but what do you have to do with this?
– I can get some story for you. Shocking stories about Wayne Enterprises, I work there.
– But why? And why do you want to do that?
– My reasons are only mine. And I can give you the information for free, if you want. But I just want you to put these stories in the paper! – The woman stopped passing her lipstick, looking directly at Hannah. – So, you accept?
– I'm sorry, miss. – Hannah started – But I can search for stories at my own expense, I don't need help.
– Well... if you change your mind... – The woman took a card from her purse, with her number and some other information, she handed it to Hannah. – Soon she went toward the door. – By the way, I liked your lipstick. – She said and left.
Hannah stood in the same place, listening to the sound of the door closing. She began to read the card.
"Contact Evelyn Nichols, just call this number…"