Hiya.

I have never been to the US actually. Sometimes Muslims shared their experience in the US and Europe.

I feel sad that people mistreated others when we should be tolerate and respect each other regardless culture, race, sexuality, gender, religion etc.

Anyway, here you go!!

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As the kettle began to whistle, I turned off the stove. I had an unexpected and unwelcome guest today, but I don't want to be impudent so I had let him in. I didn't overlook his judging look as he scanned his eyes around my living room. Our taste of interior home design must have been incompatible. I asked him to sit down so I could make tea.

Carefully I brought the tea to the table and poured into two warmed cups. I had heat up the cups so the tea won't get cold easily. It's actually one of the few tricks I learnt from Olga, Oswald's deceased housekeeper. Sadly, she passed away due to respiratory infection. "You're not fasting?" Oswald asked, surprisingly in a courteous manner. He adjusted his monocle when it almost slipped off.

"I have been given excuse for a few days," I winked. I think he got the idea that I am bleeding down there. I couldn't help but wonder the reason he's here. "So… what's up? You're not running for mayor again and trying to get me working for you, right? Careful. Tea's hot."

He sophisticatedly raised his cup but didn't drink the tea. "I'm… bored." His face was actually unreadable, though so rigid. He didn't appear bored, at least, that much I can say.

"Huh," I dragged, a little late, tilting my head to the side, reading him. "You, Oswald, bored? But you always find other ways to have fun. Have you tried playing computer games? My son suggested them to me and we played for hours. They are actually interesting. Maybe you could try a business simulation game, or a shooting game."

He rolled his eyes. At least, he didn't throw the cup in anger.

"Actually I am scared." His voice is so soft that I almost missed his words. I studied him while he stared at the space, lost in thoughts. There was a second of his vulnerability shown, but his menacing aura returned.

"You're talking about Jeremiah Valeska?" I assumed. In the past few days, his name was all over the news. He was making a comeback and I'm sure he likes the attention. The first one was a skinned man, from neck down. Sources said that Jeremiah had attacked the man in a toilet in a bar. I could not imagine the pain the man felt, being skin alive! They said the man was previously his minion. Next was a bomb at bank. It was not huge enough to destroy the building, but lives were wiped away. No money was stolen; just blood splattered everywhere on the walls of bank. A day later, he killed 13 police officers in the Gotham Central. Jim had a very tough time that night because he was there. He said the lights were turned off suddenly and as he was trying to get to the switch, all he heard was rushing footsteps and body thudding against the floor. When he turned the lights back on, all his men and women were on the floor, unmoving, with their necks snapped in uncomfortable positions.

"That man is capricious and brutal," muttered Oswald.

"Sounds familiar to me," I said, giving him a pointed look. The descriptions are not so different from Oswald.

"Him and his brother are not unalike. But I'm nothing like them," he argued, sipping his tea. "I'm negotiable. I'm a businessman. A respected businessman."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. Oh, so he is here for business. "What do you want from me?" I said.

"That maniac has a cult with many followers, yet no one knows where he is." He took a sip of his tea. "I need eyes and ears. You work at Wayne Securities. They have security cameras almost all over the city."

"But our CCTVs only covered our buildings – units that are under Wayne Enterprises only."

"At least it's something. I already got some people at the police traffic division."

My eyebrows flew up, even though I shouldn't be surprised. Oswald always find a way. "Wow. So what you're gonna do if, say… I know where he is?" Even though, I know his answer but there is a part of me that hope it will be different.

"Kill him, of course. He's bad for business!"

I should have known. "Then I refuse."

"That man went in and out Arkham, like it's a motel. Killing him is the best option."

"Find someone else," I spat, scowling. "And don't you dare try to force me." My hand stealthily reached for the fruit knife that I had hid in between the cushions. I was calculating his movements.

Then he placed the cup on the table and took a piece of biscuit. "Honey and ginger?" he said, before taking a bite. "Mmm… you still have it." Of course, I still bake even though I'm working. "Yummy." I don't trust his sudden slacken attitude. First we talked about Jeremiah and then he talked about the biscuit?

"Please be glad that I did not interfere in your business anymore," I commented. "You will regret it if I do."

"That flying rodent is enough distraction for me. But at least he is not as worse as Jeremiah. Jeremiah is… you know what the media called him, right? Joker. Sounds unfitting. And he even got a pretty confidante, as crazy as him. What did she see in him? I don't understand. You might met her before. She was a psychiatrist in Arkham Asylum."

"Let me out of this, Oswald."

He rose up and I instantly pulled out the knife. He scoffed, seemingly taken aback at my actions. "Really? You're gonna do that?" He proceeded walking away from the couch. I eventually put my armed hand down. "Be grateful that I always forgive you."

Chills ran down my spine, but I put up a brave front. "Get out of my house," I snarled.

I heard the faint sound of the door closed and let out a heavy breath. He shouldn't be the one who I am worried about, but his words about Jeremiah frightened me. Catastrophic is the right word to describe him. Then a reminder alarm rang. My class is about to start in an hour, I had to rush to the headquarter.

"Okay. Class dismissed." As soon as I said it, the annoying sounds of chairs scratching the floor simultaneously started. I groaned. "Guys, come on. Don't slide your chairs," I retorted to the new recruits. I gathered my things and returned to the office using the elevator. I was checking my schedule for tomorrow, when the elevator slipped open. "Oh. Hi," I greeted.

Tatum and a red Grace were inside. They were hiding something and it was obvious what it is. Tatum seemed irritated by my presence while Grace was still red as I stepped in. I pressed my office floor and then checked myself in the mirror of the elevator. Once in a while, I glanced at the two taller persons with me.

"So, when are you two really going to tell that you're together?" I put my hands on my hips and turned around to face them.

Grace widened her eyes and the blush on her face spread to her ears. Tatum then wrapped his arm around Grace's shoulders. "If you're focus, you would have known weeks ago," he smirked.

We don't mean to hide it from you, Grace signed.

"She's shy, which is Hell adorable," he whispered the latter part, but it didn't go unnoticed.

"I'm happy that you two found each other," I grinned. There were a few noticeable changes from Tatum. He came to work early. He didn't come to work smelling like Vodka. He seemed more presentable, though there are still elements of yellow in his outfits like the outline of the strap of his watch and the patterns of his tie.

Thank you, signed Grace.

"Just don't do whatever you were doing in this elevator in front of me," I teased. Tatum smirked while Grace looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

I'm going to love teasing them. Especially Grace. Especially Grace.

"Sarah."

"Gah!" I screamed, grabbing a metal rod, standing up, twirling around sharply. Bat-Man erected with an overwhelming aura at the ledge. "Astaghfirullah! Bat-Man, you scared the heck out of me!" I let the rod fell out of my hand.

I had been spending time on my rooftop every night, just so I could see him again, that is if he wanted to see me as well. "I have a letter from Cassandra. Proof that she's alright." Then something zapped past me and attacked my chair. The chair fell due to impact.

"Don't go!" I blurted, ignoring the chair, when I saw him trying to jump. "Yet."

"I don't have time for chat," vocalized the dark figure.

I took a few steps forward. "I just…" I squinted my eyes because of the lack of light. "Let me see you."

I tilted my head up as we were about a couple of feet away. Even if he wasn't standing on the ledge, he would still be taller than me. Only his eyes and mouth were visible. There is a symbol on his belt. The shape of a bat. Seeing him up close with his getup, I found him weird, but then, Gotham has always been the home of weird beings.

"Are you white?"

My questioned remained unanswered.

"I can't see the amount of melanin you have in this darkness," I attempted a joke.

Again, he didn't budged.

"Could you at least smile?" I said. I don't know why but I think that he was narrowing his eyes in distaste. "If Kid trusts you, then I should, too. Maybe if you could smile, I'll consider you as a friend. You were very rude last time, leaving me hanging just like that."

"I'm leaving," he curtly replied, letting himself fell backwards off the ledge. I darted ahead to see below, but he was no where to be seen. I scanned the building around, but I still don't see him.

"One day I'll find out who you are!" I shouted at nothing.

My utterances received silence in response, but I know he was not far, listening. I huffed. Then I went to the fallen chair. A bat-shaped metal was stuck on it with a folded piece of paper tied with it. I put effort on pulling the metal out, using my prosthetic hand, because the edges are sharp. I inspected it, amazed at the weapon. It looks like a shuriken. It made me wonder if Bat-Man is a Japanese man, which could narrow down my search.

"Wow… this is so cool," I squeaked quietly. There were no scratches on the metal blade. There weren't any stains either. It was well taken care of.

I unattached the paper from the bat shuriken and unfolded it. I took a deep breath as I saw the writings inside and almost choked in tears. In the legal-sized paper, a scratchy large handwritten message is inside.

Cat is not food.

I was reminded at how angry I was when Kid thought about eating cats and I scolded her for it. I sighed, biting my lip. It seems to me that Kid is alright and she trusts this Bat-Man.

I made a note to myself to round up the Gate Street children soon to tell them about Kid. I hope they'd be delighted.

Click.

Click.

Click.

And the last click finally secured the door to the rooftop. Actually I always thought that four locks are not enough. My front door has five locks inside. I tiptoed down the stairs and cupped an ear against Malik's bedroom door. Then I slowly twisted the door knob and nudged it open.

I smiled proudly to myself as I saw an empty space near his closet. I had move his computer to the room upstairs. Malik gave me cold shoulder for a couple of days, even after I tried to explain to him my actions.

Quietly I closed the door and went downstairs for a glass of water. In the dark space, I saw a something from the corner of my eyes.

A small square item was on the floor, near the welcoming mat. When I bent down to take it, I found out that it was a card with the same designs as the invitation card a few weeks ago. The floral embellishments glowed in darkness. They are beautiful. I opened the card.

It is a 'just a kind reminder' card for the event tomorrow. But there are still no sender and location of the party.

I clicked my tongue at the persistence of this person. So I scrunched the card as I advanced to the kitchen and threw it into the rubbish bin.

My heart was thumping faster as I revealed some things to Sami. I had told him about Basil Karlo since he asked about why I was looking so grim when we first met. Sami was speechless at first, mouth dropped open. I was praying that he would not shoo me away.

Then his eyes travelled down my body with concern. "Did he hurt you?" he asked.

"I accidentally bit my tongue when he carried me on his shoulder like a bag of rice," I shrugged. "Besides I'm a protection agent, I'm bound to get hurt."

"True, but that doesn't mean that I couldn't get worried. I mean… I could, right?" The wind caused his hair to fall on his face, so he had tucked them behind his ears, which he did adorably. He even smudged a charcoal stain on his cheek.

I chuckled at his anxious face. "No one is gonna stop a feeling, Sami."

"Great. Good. Good," he blabbered. "If you get hurt, tell me, okay? I mean, you could call me for anything."

I shifted my eyes to the people relaxing in the park. A few people were laying down on their mats, enjoying the warm sun. A nap would be good right now since I slept late last night.

"That time, it was a wrong move for Karlo to send me to Oswald's house. Oswald let me go, even though he pointed his stupid weaponized umbrella at me. To be honest, his umbrella gun is impressive. How can he think of putting gun and umbrella together? That's genius, but I refuse to let him know that. Complimenting Oswald is nauseating. Ugh." Not to mention his attempt to recruit me yesterday. Then I looked at Sami's drawing canvases that were displayed openly. He had told me that he sold a canvas and drew four persons today. "I have a liking for your charcoal sketches. I will buy one soon. I'm planning on having a gaming room for my son..." I slowly stopped as I saw Sami's frozen face. "Sami?" I called in worry.

"Oswald as in Mr. Oswald Cobblepot?"

I pursued my lips. Everyone knows who Oswald is. "Yup, the very him."

"W-weaponized umbrella?" He shook his head. His face is pale. "I'll be meeting him next week," he mumbled, looking scared.

I stared at him, shook. "What? What for?" I barked.

"Work. I will draw a picture of him."

Ugh. Oswald and his conceited self. "What day? What time? Cause I'm coming with you."

I silently listened as Intan and Malik read the Quran while watching Izzah drew a zebra on her tiny whiteboard, or what I assumed a zebra. It looks like a dog, actually. A dog with stripes.

To respect the Quran reading of Malik and Intan, I wore an abaya and a headscarf, even though I could not join because of my menstruation.

They almost finished the ninth chapter, Surah At-Tawbah. It means 'repentance', prompting me that my God is always there, watching over me, waiting for me to atone my sins and forgiving me.

"Jebra," Izzah told as she pointed at her drawing, showing it to me.

"Yes, baby. That's a wonderful zebra," I sweetly lied. It was a horrible drawing. The face and body of the animal are disfigured. And the tail is too chubby for a zebra's.

Suddenly, an explosion was heard from a distance, followed by a slight tremor. I grabbed my daughter and hold her on my lap. The lights flickered vaguely, but didn't shut down.

"Intan, take the kids," I ordered, giving Izzah to her. I cautiously walked to the window. The neighbors were out to check, some only peeked at the window, like me. I cannot see anything, based on my peripheral view. "Switch on the TV."

Sounds of sirens from the TV brought my attention. The disheveled male reporter fluently recounted what had happened. "Rains of bullets were heard inside of the Hotel Aventine before they exploded a minute ago. The infamous Foxglove Brothel was held…"

I stopped listening to the reporter when he mentioned the name of that certain flower. It was the same flower that was in the invitation cards. I darted to my bedroom upstairs and grabbed the card to make sure that it was the same flower.

"Foxglove," I whispered, running my fingers along the floral decorations of the card. Then I raced down the stairs to listen more of the news.

The camera was focusing at the building. Slowly, a figure was coming out of the buildings. It was difficult to see because of the heavy smoke and ashes. It was a man. He scrambled in hurry, falling a few times.

"That's Uncle Bullock," my son said. "He's hurt."

He was limping, ashes covered him from head to toe, and he was missing his signature hat. He shambled towards the camera, looking frightened. His hair was all over the place. He was trying to tell something but he was having a hard time breathing. When he reached the reporter, he propped himself on him, holding his shoulders, harshly coughing out the smoke. All the other cameras could be seen focusing on him.

"Muffin…" he panted. I felt like he was in front of me, staring right into my eyes. "Hide."

My heart almost stopped.

I froze.

Hide? Where? Who am I hiding from?

Snapping out of my thoughts, I ran to the door and fastened all the locks. Then I turned off the TV and the lights at the living room. Shit. I have three people here to protect. I obtained a gun from a hidden compartment inside a vase. Then I grabbed a knife from the kitchen.

"Akak… What's going on?" Intan shivered.

"I need you to listen to me, okay?" I gave her a determined look, trying to show her to trust me. Then I looked at Malik and Izzah. "Everything is going to be alright."

Then there was a bang at the front door. I felt like my heart wanted to jump out of my chest. Whoever they are, they're fast! I quickly ordered the others to run to the kitchen. We could escape through the back door.

"No! Momma!" cried Izzah, as Intan carried her away.

Intan halted her steps, causing me to almost bump against her. "Ada orang kat luar," she trembled. I looked at the door. She was right. Someone is outside. I could mark the silhouette of the person and he is huge and he is trying to get in, shaking the door knob.

Footsteps could be heard from the living room. The people from the front door are in the house.

We're trap.

I need to get my people out of this place fast.

And giving up is not my option now.

I switched weapon. Throwing the knife away, I grabbed a wok and waited for the person at the back door to come in. When he did, as strong as I can, I swerved the wok on the person's head. "Hurry! GO!" I yelled, as the man dropped down the floor.

"Stop or I'll shoot." I felt a tiny push at the side of my head and a click of a gun. I remembered that voice. He is someone I don't wish to ever see again. "It has been awhile since I last saw you, my Dinah."