The lab was moved in one day to a modest property outside the city, several winding miles away from the nearest freeway. Dahlia hadn't visited just yet, but heard that it was the former site of an apple farm. A recently dug - and heavily secured - underground warehouse beneath the barn was the home of the lab now.

Though, the lab was at the back of her thoughts presently. Lou Rhodes still hadn't been found. Crane said he called all the local hospitals, the coroner's office, and the Gotham PD. No one knew where he was. She was literally worried sick, barely able to stand all day. But as much as he wanted to comfort her, their circumstances were pressing. They needed to get out of that house.

Amelia called to check on Dahlia, and by the sounds of it, she fished out some info from Crane. After their chat, Crane let Dahlia know that Amelia had pitched the idea of going shopping for some clothes and to grab some food. Admittedly, the idea made her feel the faintest touch of insecurity to be away from him. Little did she know that he felt exactly the same way. But, he did point out that the house at the farm still needed to be spruced up to be habitable, and that it would also be a good idea to get security set up. Made sense, she supposed.

To make each other feel better, he supplied her with some tools of self defense in the event of something unexpected: Her Banshee "uniform," four fear canisters, and a concealable snubnosed revolver, all tucked away in her small duffel bag. Per his persistence, she also promised to rest if needed and take things easy to allow her concussion to continue healing.

A car arrived to pick Dahlia up in an hour. Crane's kiss goodbye was bittersweet and savored. But the lingering memory that stuck during the drive to meet Amelia were his parting words.

"Don't worry. After this is finished, nothing will be able to separate us again."

The location that Amelia chose was a bustling indoor shopping mall in a modest neighborhood. Surprisingly to Dahlia, Amelia drove them there herself. More surprising than that was that Amelia was driving an old and well-used SUV. All the rich people Dahlia had recently met had their own drivers in much more posh cars. What didn't surprise her though was Amelia's getup. Every time they met, she was in a form-fitting and brightly-colored mini-dress, high heels, manicured nails, and airbrushed makeup. Flawless as always.

When they arrived at the parking garage, they passed the valet's kiosk. Another surprise that Amelia passed them by and began to circle the ramps upwards to find a free spot. Eventually one was found near the top floor, on a less busy level. As they got out, Amelia said, "I know, I know. Didn't think a gussied-up bimbo like me would drive for herself, especially in this heap, right?"

Almost offended on her behalf, Dahlia replied, "I never thought that of you. You're just ... a surprising person."

Amelia smiled warmly as she manually locked the car doors with the key, and tossed it into her designer purse. "You're a sweet girl, Doll. But don'tcha fuss, I really do hire a lot of outside help. Doesn't mean I forgot how to be my own independent woman, though! That's important, I think. Havin' real companionship is such a blessin', but bein' your own person is worth more n' all the gold in El Dorado."

With a forced smile, Dahlia nodded. She was still distracted.

Amelia continued, "I know, Doll, I know. You'll feel a little better once we get some good food in ya."

First, they went from store to store and Amelia encouraged Dahlia to pick out anything she wanted. Dahlia wasn't keen on the idea of another person spending so much money on her, so took a while to finally pick out one blouse that she liked. Amelia jested and told Dahlia that she'd pinch her unless she picked out more clothes. It took another bit of back and forth for Dahlia to finally give in and pick out another item or two.

After a while, they took a rest in the food court. It was still surprising for Dahlia to see Amelia do such ... non-rich-people things; such as order two plates of chicken tenders with a side of hot sauce and mayonnaise. She didn't know what she was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that.

"Childhood habit." Amelia answered the looming curiosity. "A habanero-based hot sauce is my personal favorite, but this tabasco stuff works alright."

Dahlia gave a small chuckle, but didn't know what else to say.

Since no conversation passed over a few moments, Amelia began a new topic. Her voice got quieter, a bit gentler, but making sure to project enough to carry through the crowd and to Dahlia's ears. "So, how did a sweet thing like you get mixed up into ... everythin'?"

Not thinking much of it at all, Dahlia responded, "Jon was my teacher at Gotham State." Amelia's eyes flicked up upon hearing his name referred to so casually. Dahlia didn't notice, as she was idly examining her barely-eaten burger. "It feels like forever ago now. Things just kind of lined up I think. It's a series of weird stories. He's uh ... well, like you I guess. I didn't expect him to be so ... kind to me. Things just took off from there."

Amelia's bright pink lips stretched into a small smile. "He's your rose among thorns, ain't he?" The girl turned beet red and didn't respond, and was now looking away. Dahlia smiled through the embarrassment, because she knew it was true. Amelia wasn't smiling anymore.

Before saying anything else, she took a cursory glance around. Then ... "I might be fibbin' ..." Amelia began, "... if I were to say that I had no intention of gettin' you away from that house to talk girl to girl."

The remark took Dahlia off guard. Puzzled, she raised her eyebrows and waited for an elaboration.

"When was the last time you checked the news?"

She was clueless as to what Amelia was referring to. "Maybe a week or two. We've been busy. Why?"

Pausing to collect the right words, Amelia said, "The dean of your college died recently."

"Oh." Unfortunate news, but nothing of personal note for Dahlia.

"They're calling it a heart attack, but the details just don't line up. Especially with those attacks on some students a while back. Seems like too good a coincidence. And ... those same students were moved to the state hospital recently. Where, I think, Dr. Crane recently kicked up his heels."

The implication was upsetting, and Dahlia didn't care for it one bit. As if sensing the shift in moods, Amelia laid down her fork to focus on the conversation. "Dr. Crane has a lot of desirable qualities, Dahlia. He's the hardest workin' man I ever did meet. Handsome, sharper n' a tack, driven. Many of the same reasons I fell for Paul. But Crane's got another side to him. A side he doesn't like you to see. A side he's been showin' us a lot more of lately."

Dahlia reached the end of her comfort zone on this topic. "What ... What is this? Why did you bring me out here to tell me these things?"

Voice a little hushed now, Amelia answered. "Pretty sure Crane would have had you followed here. Wanted to find a public spot where they couldn't eavesdrop s'good."

"That's ridiculous." Dahlia's voice became a bit louder now. "Who told you these things?"

Amelia was vested in her message, and continued with affectionate determination.

"Darlin' ... Crane set that fire at your buildin'. One of Paul's men was there when it happened."