Countless weeks passed without a hitch. No word from Jervis. No word from Jim. Roxanne stopped working from home and found work downtown, leaving Charlotte with more quiet time at home. "You really should find work outside of here," Roxanne would always tell her. Unfortunately, she never seemed to leave the apartment for any purpose. She'd become an even more withdrawn, pale version of herself. It's as if the life had been sucked out of her. Every knock at the door or subtle noise outside of the window made her jump.

Charlotte continued to work online, offering counseling at a cheaper rate via chat. Although she hated to admit it, money had gotten tight. Online therapy didn't pay near as well as a facility or private practice. Roxanne continued to press about finding a job elsewhere but knew there was no use. Charlotte was stubborn and lethargic. It would take more than mere suggestions to help her find the motivation to work outside of her home. She knew Jervis was still out there. Though she tried to ignore the news, she couldn't help but hear his name from time to time when Roxanne had the television on in the living room. Typically, Roxanne would turn it off immediately, but Charlotte always pretended she didn't hear a thing.

After watching Charlotte deteriorate at a rapid pace over time, she finally decided to give her a final push. Charlotte was sitting at the dining table waiting for Roxanne to finish up dinner. When she set down the two plates, Roxanne went back into the kitchen.

"I already grabbed us silverware tonight, Rox, you're good."

"I know," Roxanne sat back down, slapping a newspaper next to Charlotte's plate, "I was getting this."

"What? Why?"

She pointed to where she had circled on the front page, "Arkham just raised their pay. They desperately need staff right now."

"And?" Charlotte twisted around the spaghetti before taking a bite, "I have a job."

"You and I both know you didn't spend nearly a decade in school just to work from home."

"What, do you have a problem with me working from home?"

"Char, I'm worried about you…You know I love ya and just want what's best for you. I've never seen you like this. Just humor me and go in for an interview."

Scanning the newspaper article, Charlotte scoffed, "They're hiring guards."

"I already called. They're hiring for just about every position and are especially short on psychiatrists."

"If I go, will you leave me alone?"

"If you go, actually try to get the job, and don't get hired, then yes, I'll leave you alone…but I expect you to put in effort."

Charlotte ran her fingers through her hair, "Fine. I'll humor you."

"Great…because I scheduled you an interview for tomorrow at 6."

"You what?"

"Look, we've talked about you getting a job outside of here for a while, and I knew you wouldn't actually go do it without a little push. It's outside of their visiting hours and after you get done with work. I know you don't have any other plans, so you can't say no."

I really don't want to do this…but I sure could use normal pay. These student loans and bills won't pay for themselves. "I'll go…but I'm not happy with you."

"I'm looking out for ya, babe. You haven't been yourself for weeks! Even I was starting to feel a bit drab working from home. This will be good for ya."

"I know…I just don't like it." Charlotte gave her a weak smile, "Thank you. You've always been such an amazing friend. Will you help me figure out what to wear when we finish eating?"

Roxanne lit up, "I've been dying for you to ask!"

Charlotte stared at the iron gates of Arkham as she stepped out of her cab. I've heard all about this place but never seen it for myself. She showed her state ID to the guard out front and he let her in. Nervous excitement built up in her chest as she walked through each security checkpoint with him. Now this is more like what I went to school for. She remembered the first time she'd toured a facility in college. It was no where near the size of Arkham, but the adrenaline rush she felt was quite comparable.

Every step built up tension until the guard finally stopped her in front of a door labelled "D. Keys – Unit Manager" next to it. A woman opened the door and coldly motioned to come in. Charlotte thanked the guard and entered, sitting down in front of the desk.

"I'm Dianna Keys. I'm the Unit Manager of the medical wing, but as of late, I've had to oversee hiring for the Psychiatric wing as well. You must be my 6 o'clock."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm Charl—"

"I know. Did you bring your credentials?"

Rude. Charlotte pulled a few certifications out of her bag and slid them across the desk. "I'm state certified, I just never got the chance to complete my residency."

"I won't tell if you won't," Dianna flipped through the documents.

That's…sketchy. "I specialized in criminal psychology for my Master's, but did an array of training for my M.D. I don't know what you're looking for exactly, but I'm sure I'd be able to—"

"You're hired."

Whoa, hold on. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you deaf? I said you're hired. You have more certification than anyone I've interviewed in the last two weeks, and we're desperate for people. I'll hire you on with a conditional termination period of two weeks. Make it through those two weeks, and you'll get the job permanently."

"I-I don't know what to say."

"How about a thank you?"

"I mean, yes, ma'am, I'm thankful for the opportunity, but…we haven't even discussed my experience or the pay."

"It's a salaried position. You'd start out at $70,000 annually, but have the opportunity for raises over time. If you sign on for an increment of time of six months or more, I can bump your pay by ten grand."

Six months? On one hand, I could use another $800 per month…on the other, this place screams "concerning." There are so many red flags. I don't know if I can pass up that kind of pay. I'm so behind on my loans, and really need to get them paid off as soon as possible…I could probably use a car as well.

"Well? Do you want the job or not?"

"I'd need to see the contract along with the requirements for the position, but yes, I'm very interested."

Dianna reached behind her and opened a filing cabinet, tossing a file over to Charlotte, "Read through all of that. Sign it. I'll set up a quick tour of the floors for you, then have you taken to your new office."

Already? They really aren't even going to do a background check? Something's not right here… Despite the obvious problems, Charlotte brushed off the feeling in her gut, rationalizing that since Arkham is a state certified facility, it must know what it's doing. I could really use the money. She looked down at the file and let out a quiet sigh. After flipping it open, she started to read the contract.

As she finished signing the last page, Charlotte got the feeling she was being watched and looked up. Dianna was looking past her and stood up, "Officer Masters! This is our new on-site psychiatrist."

She hadn't even noticed that someone had come in. Standing up, she turned and smiled at the hulking man. He probably stood damn near six and a half feet, filling in every inch of his bone structure. His hazel eyes were kind and paired nicely with his brunette hair. Charlotte stuck out her hand, "You can just call me Charlotte. I've never been one for formalities."

"Brent," he said, taking her hand, "I run 13, the floor you'll be pulling patients from. Ready for a quick tour?"

"Oh, will I have to be up on the floor a lot?" she frantically looked over at Dianna, "I didn't think that—"

"No, no," she replied, annoyed, "You will go get them before each session, but your office and the psychiatric treatment areas are on two separate floors."

Charlotte anxiously laughed, "Oh, okay…yeah, that's fine…I'm ready."

"Alright, we'll head up then!" Brent turned and led her to the elevators. When they stepped in, he waited until the doors shut to say, "So, what made you want to work in Arkham? Not to scare you off, but you seem…normal."

"So do you."

He smirked, "I'd like to think so. I'm one of the few, though…just be careful. In my experience, most of the doctors here tend to actually care about the patients. The other staff members? Not so much." The doors opened and he stepped out in front of her, "This is 13."

Charlotte stepped out and looked side to side, "Wait…where are the other guards?"

"That's the thing. We're so short-staffed that I rarely have a partner up here with me anymore. The patients are out for chow right now, so I had a guy from 11 come up to watch them while I got you."

"Jeez…I'm sorry…"

"It's probably for the best," he laughed, "Like I said, a lot of the guards are corrupt. The only guys I seem to like are 13's night staff. They're pretty solid. Day shift? Sketchy as all hell. Other floors? Even worse."

Man, I wish I could've talked to him before signing on for six months. Damn.

Brent noticed how concerned Charlotte looked and put a hand on her shoulder, "I'll be here every shift you work. I'm always here during psychiatric and visitation hours. If you need anything, just call the desk phone up here. Actually—" He pulled a small notepad out of his jacket pocket and a pen, "Here's my cell." After scribbling down his phone number, he handed it to Charlotte."

"Thank you," she said, taking it, "I'll text you when I get home. I left my phone at my condo in case I couldn't bring it in."

"You're not supposed to, but they never check us on-shift. Arkham is a very don't-ask-don't-tell kind of place. There's a huge problem with contraband getting brought in, but that's no surprise…we can bring in basically anything. The camera quality here is poor and the right people are paid off. Just watch your back. I hate it, but I keep my mouth shut when I see something. I've got bills to pay, y'know?"

She nodded. Great. My gut feeling was right.

"Anyway, ready to rock? Like I said, the patients are all out for chow, so you can get a good look at them. Only a few don't get let out with the rest…they don't play well with others, typically."

"Sure thing."

They walked back through the halls and into an open area. A cage-like enclosure contained about forty men and women. One guard for all these people? This can't be legal. Something is definitely wrong with this place.

"We're not at max capacity," Brent said, "Thankfully." He walked up to another guard, exchanged a few words, and came back, "As I was saying, we can house a lot more up on this floor. We haven't been maxing out due to some changes."

"What kind of changes?"

"Gotham has been getting more and more higher-caliber people. Meaning, more that don't play well with others. They usually end up in Blackgate, but it seems more psychos—er, sorry—people with psychiatric needs…are running the streets."

"So is 13 going to become a solitary unit?"

"Something like that. This floor is for the most dangerous and violent offenders. At least half of it will likely get transformed into specialized solitary. The cells have to be modified based on the person. We've gotten some weird ones, that's for sure…"

"I see…" Note to Self: Not only did they ignore your lack of residency completion, they shafted you with patients from the worst floor. What. The. Hell.

"You'll start off with twenty of them; nineteen free-roaming, one solitary," he pointed to one of the tables, "The guys over there will be the easiest to handle. You've got Malcolm Vice, Jamie Jameson, Mark Kilpatrick, Jackson Parks, and Connor Lee. I truly think they have something wrong with them…they're a little clingy, though. You'll likely see them more than anyone. They're in for physically violent crimes, but I've never had a problem with them, personally. They seem like the kind that need provocation."

"What about them?" Charlotte motioned towards another table, and they all waved at her.

"Don't wave back. Those three are from the Yule Cult on the outskirts of town: Casey Clapton, Dallas Watson, and Trace Coleman. They're highly manipulative, so watch out for them. To their left, the seven guys playing cards, are also patients of yours. A few of them are new, but I'll give you the list soon. There are a four others, but one's down in medical, and the other three are standing up against the far wall. Those three are the only women on your list: Lacey Blake, Marissa Sanchez, and Heather Lockley. They've recently formed an alliance of sorts. I don't think it's anything to be concerned about…probably just women looking out for women."

"Sounds about right," Charlotte nodded, "Where's the last one? I thought I had twenty patients?"

Brent chuckled, "He's solitary, remember? I need to bring him his tray, anyway." He grabbed a plate of food off of a dull, grey cart and motioned, "This way. Valeska's a pain in the ass, but I can handle him. He's got height on you and a sharp wit, so be cautious when you meet with him."

"Valeska? I know I've heard that name. I've never been one to watch the news, but my roommate loves it."

"Jerome Valeska. He first got locked up here for killing his mom. Notice I said first. He escaped with some others but ended up back here. We thought he was dead for a while. Rumor has it, he was resurrected."

Charlotte laughed before seeing Brent's face, "What, you don't really believe that…do you?"

"How long have you lived in Gotham? Not long, I take it. This wouldn't be the strangest thing that's happened here."

"I mean, my roommate told me about some stories she'd heard, but I thought they all sounded like folklore."

"If you stay here long enough…you'll see something mystical eventually."

For the first time in over a month, Jervis' face flashed into Charlotte's mind. She quickly shook it off, trying to stay focused. "Yeah…maybe I do know what you mean."

"I happen to know the M.D. that claims Valeska was dead then came back to life in front of her. Sweet gal, used to work here. She'd have no reason to pronounce him dead and lie about it." He stopped in front of one of the doors, "Oh, and, fair warning…his face is a little…"

"A little, what?" Jerome slammed his hands against the door, making Charlotte jump. She stepped back and looked at the small, fogged up window. Jerome peered back at her and smiled, "Mm…I just love fresh meat."