After his initial statement to the police when he arrived, Miguel Sanchez had been non-communicative. For almost two hours now, he sat in a small, plastic chair under the bright lights of Interrogation Room A, withdrawn, ashen, his dark brown eyes cast down onto the table, fidgeting his with hands every minute. Penelope and Montoya stood outside the interrogation room now, watching him through the one-way glass. Montoya clucked her tongue. "You're sure about this, Doc?"

Penelope watched Miguel closely as he ran a hand through his curly mop of black hair. "Look at his body language, Renee. He's terrified. A man who killed a Rogue with his bare hands like he claims he did should be projecting a lot more confidence. He's not here on his own free will."

"I agree this doesn't add up, but how do you know that his sister was kidnapped?"

Penelope hesitated a moment. "I can't say exactly, but I have a reliable source."

Montoya hummed. "Would this 'reliable source' happen to be another former Rogue with a big mouth and an even bigger ego?" Penelope whipped her head to the side to face Montoya. The detective had a knowing look on her face. "I thought so. And you think he's right?"

Penelope nodded. "Yes, I do. He spoke with Sanchez's parents just a few minutes ago. They confirmed that Sanchez told them that he was going to take credit for Goodman's murder to get his sister back."

Montoya swore under her breath. "I always knew Bolton was a son of a bitch. You know how tight he is with Sharp though. If we're going to nail him, we have to get Sanchez to talk, and we have to do it now. The bus'll be here to take him to County in thirty minutes. Once it gets here, we're not going to be able to keep him."

"I understand that," Penelope said. She turned her gaze back to Miguel. He had laid his head down on the table now, and she could see his shoulders shake. What must be going through his mind? Fear for his sister's safety no doubt. Guilt, more than likely as well. She'd have to be careful with how she approached him. If he felt that she was in any way endangering his sister by trying to convince him to talk, he would double down or lash out. If she could get him to talk though...he could give them Bolton. Bolton could give them Sharp, or Strange even. This whole mess could be over and done within a matter of days. He had to talk to her. He had to. "Let's go." Before she could enter the interrogation room, Montoya held a hand up. Penelope made an impatient noise. "What?"

"Just one thing," Montoya said. Her expression was curious. "What's Nigma's stake in this? Why does he care about an Arkham orderly and his sister?"

"That I can't elaborate on," Penelope said quickly. Edward would never forgive her if she exposed Ellen's existence to anyone in GCPD, even Montoya and Aaron. "What I can say is that he has absolutely no incentive to lie."

"You trust him?"

Penelope didn't hesitate for a moment. "Yes."

Montoya let out a sigh. "Alright. Let's go. If he gets agitated or looks like he's about to lash out at us, get out." She opened the interrogation room door and stood to the side, allowing Penelope to enter first before she followed in behind her, letting the door shut with a loud bang.

Miguel sat straight up in his chair when he heard the two women enter, and Penelope noticed his flushed face and his watery eyes. He quickly rubbed a hand across his eyes. "You here to take me to County?" he asked them.

"No," Penelope said, taking a seat in the chair across the table from him. She watched Montoya cross the room to situate herself directly behind Sanchez, to position herself to grab him if need be. "My name is Dr. Penelope Young-" She noticed his eyes widen slightly when she stated her name. Had they met before at Arkham? "I'm a consulting psychiatrist for GCPD. I'd like to talk with you about what you claim happened at Arkham."

Miguel looked back down at the table. "I've already told the cops," he said in a strained voice. His body language was closed off. He seemed to want to curl himself into a ball almost. "I killed Victor Goodman. I choked him with my bare hands. Is that all?" Not once did he make eye contact with her. If he was adamant that he was Goodman's killer, why couldn't he look her in the eyes and say that? "I'm not crazy," he said, his voice raising slightly. "I don't need to talk to a shrink! Just take me to County already!"

"Settle down," Montoya warned. "We just have a few more questions." She nodded at Penelope.

Penelope folded her hands in front of her. "Why did you do it?" she asked.

Miguel shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

He couldn't even come up with a basic reason. "It doesn't matter?" Penelope repeated. "Miguel, you do understand what you're confessing to, don't you? You could be facing the rest of your life in prison." She lowered her voice. "Think about your family, Miguel. Don't you think they deserve an explanation for why you're throwing your life away?"

Miguel shook a bit and his nostrils flared. "Don't," he said. "Don't bring my family into this! I did it! I killed him! He was a freak, okay!? He deserved to get killed! Just leave me alone!" He lay his head back down on the table. "Just leave me alone," his pleaded, his voice muffled.

Montoya gave her a worried look. "Doc, we're running out of time."

Penelope took a breath. "Miguel," she said, keeping her voice cool. "I want to help you. I convinced Detective Montoya to let me in here to speak with you."

"Who asked you to?" Miguel said, still not lifting his head.

He either couldn't or wouldn't respond to her attempts to be subtle. Time to take the more dangerous route of being direct. "Miguel," she said with a tone of authority she hadn't used since Arkham. "Sacrificing yourself like this is not going to bring your sister home."

Miguel's head shot up, the color draining from his face. "My sister-how do you know-" the look of shock was quickly replaced with one of anger. "Who sent you?" he asked. "Bolton? Is this a trick?"

"No," Penelope said, keeping calm in the face of his growing anger. She couldn't lose her nerve now, not when he'd all but admitted Bolton's involvement. "It's not a trick. I meant it when I said I wanted to help you, and I want to help your sister, but you have to tell us exactly what Bolton did."

Miguel glared at her. "I don't believe you," he said. 'I know who you are, Dr. Young."

So she hadn't been imagining it. He had recognized her. "Did we meet at Arkham?"

"No," he said. "But I've heard all about you. You know what people call you there?" He leaned forward. "Bruja," he hissed between his teeth. "Witch. Everyone knows what you did to Bane, what your experiment did. You don't care about the patients, the staff, or anyone else at Arkham! How am I supposed to trust you!?"

There was a long pause while Penelope formulated her response. Montoya shot her a look of concern as she idly tapped the table. Bruja...witch...murderer...was that what they still thought of her? Would nothing she did in GCPD, for Gotham, ever make up for what had happened-Miguel's sister was out there. Ellen was out there. There was no time for this. And whether he knew it or not, he'd given her the perfect way in. "That's true," she said, keeping her voice soft and not letting on just how he had rattled her. "I didn't care about the patients enough. But you do, don't you Miguel? Isn't that why you stayed at Arkham after what happened to Goodman?"

Miguel's mouth dropped open. All of the anger seemed to dissipate from him in one great sigh. He ran a hand through his hair. "Yes," he said softly. "I do. I did. I-" a fresh wave of tears came. "You don't know what it's like there."

This was it. Penelope leaned forward in her seat. "Tell us."

Miguel wiped his eyes and shook his head. "I can't-my sister-"

"Miguel," Penelope said, not unsympathetically, "I know that Bolton took your sister to keep you quiet. But think about the patients. If you go along with this, Bolton and everyone else at Arkham who is involved in mistreating them will continue to do so. Someone needs to speak up for them." She watched him bite his lip and look back down at his hands. He was so close, he needed just one last push. How well did he know Ellen? Probably quite well, given how close she apparently was to his sister. If she told him that Ellen was out there too, would that persuade him to talk? She glanced back up at Montoya, who was looking at her with a question in her eyes. If she did mention Ellen though, with what Montoya already knew, she'd be able to piece together exactly why Edward was involved. She'd have to find another way. "Edward Nigma is out there now trying to find your sister."

Miguel looked back up at her with a start. "The Riddler? He's-why?"

"It doesn't matter why," Penelope quickly said. "What matters is that he's doing it. And between Lyle Bolton and Edward Nigma, who do you think is more likely to win?"

Miguel let out a shaky laugh. "El Acertijo." He ran his tongue across his lower lip. "Alright. I'll tell you."

Penelope wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but instead, she gave him a brisk nod. "Go on."

Miguel took a deep breath. "I started working at Arkham about a year and a half ago, not too long after the riot. I knew it was a dangerous job, but my family needed the money. When I got there, the place was still torn up after what Joker and Ivy's plants did to it. There were only a few staff there too, mostly doctors and a few orderlies. Most of the security guards got killed during the riot. When I first started, the patients were kept on a strict lockdown. They'd only be allowed out of their cells to eat or to bathe or to see their doctors. Mayor Sharp said that it was a safety precaution because of how badly Arkham was damaged." Miguel scoffed. "For the first few months, I actually believed that."

"What happened to change your mind?" Montoya asked.

"About six months after I first started, Arkham finally got a fully staffed security team. They got money too to help rebuild the asylum. But they didn't. Most of the money went to the penitentiary, or to extreme isolation, where the Rogues were being kept. Most of the medical rooms, the recreation room, the cafeteria...they were left to rot. I heard one of the doctors say once that Sharp didn't think the patients deserved these privileges if they were just going to wreck them. That wasn't the worst of it though. After Cash and Bryant left, the security guards started getting nastier to the patients. They'd find any excuse to keep them in their cells, they'd take any whatever privileges they had left, they started beating them when they mouthed off or didn't move quick enough. One time, I had to punch one guard when he was hitting a patient with his baton, just because the patient took too long getting out of the shower."

"What happened?" Penelope asked.

"I got called into Dr. Strange's office. He told me that the guard was just 'working off his frustration with what happened during the riot' and that if I interfered again, I'd be fired."

"Strange told you this?" Penelope asked. "Where was Sharp when this was happening?"

"He was too busy running his campaign. Even before he got elected, he was letting Strange run everything."

This had been what she and Edward had believed, but to hear it confirmed was chilling. How long had Strange been the de facto head of Arkham? Where were the other doctors? Where was the Board of Directors? "And Bolton? Where does he figure into this?"

Miguel's face darkened. "Strange and Sharp officially promoted him to head of security about six months ago. He started electrifying the patient's cell floors, to keep them in bed at night. I can't count how many times we've had to go in and change sheets because the patients can't even get up to use the toilet. Most of the patients are on a 23-hour lockdown now. They're only allowed out to see their doctors. Their food is taken to their cells once a day. One word out of them that the guards don't like, they're beaten or taken to Solitary. They'll leave them down there for days."

"Jesus Christ," Montoya murmured with disgust. "How can they get away with this? Don't the patients' families say anything?"

Miguel shook his head. "Most of the patients who aren't criminals got removed by their families after the riot. The ones left are either people who don't have families, or their families don't have enough money to put them anywhere else or don't care enough about them to get them out. And the patients who don't have families? Strange has been moving some of them to the penitentiary, or to Arkham Mansion. He says it's for 'treatment', but he won't let any of the other doctors or the nursing staff see them."

This sounded familiar to Penelope. Treatment or experimentation? "And the Rogues?" she asked.

Miguel made a derisive snort. "The guards and Strange are too smart or too chickenshit to mess with most of them. Last year though, Strange took Tetch out of his cell in extreme isolation and moved him to Arkham mansion, closer to where his office is. I haven't seen him since."

A cold chill went down Penelope's spine. That would have been right after the Bierko incident. There was even stronger evidence that Strange had been involved in that. Was Tetch still alive? And if he was, what was Strange doing with him? Was it connected to the other patients that he had moved? She gulped before she asked her next question. "What happened the night Victor Goodman died?"

Miguel took a deep breath. "After Riddler took him down in December, he was moved to Arkham. We all knew he was sick, but Strange only kept him on the bare minimum amount of medication. He did have him moved to the infirmary though when he was about to die. Someone said that it was his way of repaying him for trying to kill Riddler."

Strange would be that vindictive, Penelope thought. "Go on."

"Back in February, Bolton and Mayor Sharp came to Arkham. They came into the infirmary when I was looking after Goodman. Sharp asked me to leave. I didn't want to, but Bolton got in my face and told me to get out."

Penelope could feel her heart almost pounding outside of her chest. If this was true, and she had no reason to think it wasn't, that meant that Miguel was one of the last people to see Goodman alive and that Sharp and Bolton had been alone with him before he'd died. "Yes?"

Miguel ran a hand through his hair again. "I left the room, but I stayed outside the door, to try to listen in. I heard footsteps coming towards the door, so I moved down the hall, out of sight. I went down to some of the other patients' cells to check on them, then about a half hour later, Bolton came and got me. He told me that I hadn't seen him or the Mayor talk to Goodman and that if anyone asked, to keep my mouth shut. I thought that he'd slapped Goodman around and wanted to go check on him, but-"

"Goodman was dead," Penelope finished. Miguel hadn't seen or heard the murder, but what he had to say would reflect poorly on Sharp and Strange, and at the very least, launch an investigation into their treatment of Arkham's patients.

"So then," Montoya said. "You didn't kill Goodman?"

Miguel was about to open his mouth, but a loud knock on the door cut them off. The door opened before either woman could respond, and Schrader came in.

"Do you mind!?" Penelope asked, turning in her chair and glaring at the detective. "We're still in the middle of-"

"The bus to County is here," Schrader said. He inclined his head towards Miguel. "It's time. He has to go."

Miguel's eyes widened and he looked to Penelope. "Dr. Young-"

"Schrader," Montoya said. "Sanchez just-"

"If Sanchez has any other statements to make, it'll have to wait until the morning. I've delayed the corrections officers long enough as is." He addressed Sanchez. "I'd suggest getting a lawyer, son."

"I'll get in touch with legal consultation for you," Penelope said, getting out of her chair. Before she left the room, she leaned over to whisper into Miguel's ear. "We'll get you out of this by morning. I promise."

"And my sister?" Miguel whispered.

"She'll be at home waiting for you," she said. Then she pulled away and walked briskly out of the room, ignoring Schrader's gaze. She walked towards the women's bathroom, thankfully finding it empty. As soon as she closed the door, she let out an exultant sigh. She'd done it. Edward would find Ellen and Miguel's sister, Miguel would testify against Bolton, and one by one, Sharp, Strange, and anyone else involved in the atrocities being committed at Arkham would fall. Then Arkham could rebuild, maybe the city too. She'd finally be able to undo the damage she'd done. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket to call Edward and tell him when she saw that at some point during her conversation with Miguel, he'd texted her.

Batman sent two of his minions to me. They know where Ellen is. I'm on my way to get her right now. I'll call when I have her and her friend.

Penelope smiled, then dialed the number of a person she knew in Legal Aid. They'd done it. It would all be over by morning. She shook her head. And to think, all it took was Ellen putting on a costume. Edward would find it amusing, once he'd calmed down a bit.

Schrader hadn't seen most of Young and Montoya's interview with Sanchez, but he'd caught the part about Nigma being involved. Whether the former Rogue succeeded in recovering the Sanchez girl or not was inconsequential to Schrader. That was Bolton's problem. The more concerning part was that Young was apparently privy to his movements. She might have been the one to call him in in the first place. Or perhaps, she was his inside person in GCPD. And if she had that kind of influence with a former Rogue...that was problematic. First thing though, was to dispatch Sanchez. He escorted the now handcuffed young man through GCPD, followed by Montoya up to the front door. The Gotham County officials were waiting outside for them. Men Schrader knew and trusted. He opened the back door of the bus and helped Sanchez inside, sitting him down on the bench. "You should be at County in about forty-five minutes," he told the boy. Sanchez said nothing but gave a nod. Schrader got off the bus, then walked around to the driver's side of the bus.

"Hey Schrader," the driver said. "That the kid?"

"Yes," Schrader said. "You know what to do?"

The driver nodded. "And there's no way we'll get caught?"

"Not if you do it the way I instructed you to," Schrader said. "Remember, use the chokehold first. Make sure he's out cold before you do it. Then it will be undetectable. And just between you and me, our coroner's not exactly the brightest guy in the world. The family's not going to be likely to look too closely either."

"Got it. See you on the other side, Schrader." Then the driver started the bus. Schrader took a step back and watched the bus pull out from the entrance, around the tree that somehow was allowed to still stand, and drive down the street. He smirked a bit.

"Vaya con Dios, Sanchez."

"So, I've pulled up everything I could find on Morton. He's been with Arkham Asylum for about eight months. He lives at 250 62nd street in Gotham, that I know you already know. He also drives a green sedan, license plate number is VHX2338. You're at his address now?"

"On the building rooftop across from it," Stephanie answered. "I popped in when we got here, but there was no trace of him or the girl. I saw Bolton and his cronies drive by too. They're gone now, but they've been circling around the block off and on for the last half hour. If Morton's smart, he dumped her somewhere and took off."

"I'm monitoring hospital and police station communications in case he did. How's Enigma holding up?"

Stephanie looked away from where she'd been watching the rundown apartment building through her binoculars, and towards Enigma. She was sitting about ten feet away from her on the far left corner of the rooftop, hugging her knees to her chest. It made her look even younger than she was. How old is she anyway? Stephanie thought. 15? 16 at the most? "She's okay," Stephanie said. "I think this is starting to get to her a bit though. She's been pretty quiet since I came back up to the rooftop." She'd pitched a bit of a fit when Stephanie had deposited her here and went to check on the apartment by herself. She was probably still sulking. She definitely was Nigma's kid. "Anyway, did you tell Batman what's going on?"

"Yeah. He said to keep monitoring the situation. As soon as he and Damian get back to Wayne Manor, he'll be looking into it. He also knows about your run-in with Jason."

Stephanie gulped a bit. "How did he take that?"

"He's not happy. With Jason. He said that you did a good job handling that situation."

Stephanie had to smile a bit at that. "Wow, Batman said I did a good job? He's getting soft in his old age. Don't tell him I said that."

Oracle chuckled a bit. "Don't worry, I said the same thing. I've got to get back to work. Keep me posted."

"Always do. Batgirl out."

Stephanie put her binoculars down and walked over to where Enigma sat. Enigma stared straight ahead at the street below, not acknowledging her presence. "Hey," Stephanie said. She sat down next to the girl. "You're not still mad at me for leaving you here, are you?"

Ellen scoffed. She knew when she was being buttered up. "I would have been fine. It's not like anyone was there!"

Stephanie let out a sigh. "Yeah, but we didn't know that at the time. This Morton guy could still be dangerous." That wasn't the only reason Stephanie had kept her away. If her friend was dead and her body had been in the apartment, Stephanie didn't want her to see it. "Besides," she said in a lighter tone. "I don't want to have to face your Dad if you get hurt."

Ellen let out a huff. "Like he'd care." She noticed a look of concern come over Batgirl's face. "He didn't care enough about me to help find Marisol," Ellen explained. "He wouldn't care if I got hurt. He'd probably say I deserved it for running after her like a moron."

Stephanie wasn't sure what to say to that. As much as she didn't like Edward Nigma, as much as she thought he was a self-centered, self-obsessed crook, even after he reformed, she also remembered what he'd done last Christmas. "I don't know what exactly your relationship is like with your Dad," she said finally, "And I don't want to judge or anything like that, but he did attack an armed guy to protect you. And he doesn't get physical very often. Just because he didn't want to go find Marisol doesn't mean he doesn't care about you."

"She's my friend though!" Ellen shouted. "He should care! He just said 'he'd look into it later.' How can he care about me and not about the people I care about?"

Stephanie sighed. "That's just how he is," she said. "From my experience, Edward Nigma's not exactly a stand-up guy."

"I know that," Ellen hissed. "I'm not stupid. I know what kind of guy he was, but I thought that..." she trailed off, then sighed again. "I thought that once he met me and got to know me, he'd change a bit."

Stephanie furrowed her brow. She'd never heard Nigma talk about his daughter when she knew him as a girl, so she'd figured he hadn't been involved in her life, but from the way the girl was talking, it almost sounded like- "Once he met you? How long ago was that?"

"Last August."

Stephanie felt her jaw drop. "You mean before that, he never even knew about you?"

Ellen shook her head. "Nope. My Mom dumped him for being a crook before she even found out she was pregnant with me. She never told him about me."

"Wow," Stephanie breathed. That changed her perception of the situation a bit. "But your Mom told you about him?"

"No," Ellen said. "She never talked about who my Dad was. She'd always tell me to drop it whenever I asked. I tracked him down by myself."

"She was probably trying to protect you," Stephanie said. How different would her own life have been if her mother had done the same? She shook her head. "What does your Mom think about you spending time with him?"

"She's dead."

Stephanie grimaced. "I'm sorry."

Ellen shrugged. "You didn't know. My Gramma hates his guts though. She always goes on about how he's a bad influence, about how I shouldn't spend time with him at all, how he ruined Mom's life and how he's gonna ruin mine," Ellen felt tears leak out of her eyes and shut them tight. "I just wanted to know who my Dad was! I felt like there was a part of me missing without him! I just want him to," she hugged her knees tighter. You want me to love you. I don't know that I'm capable of that. "I just want him to love me."

Stephanie leaned over and gave the younger girl a hug. "I get it," she said. She remembered every time her father had chosen crime over her and her mother and she hugged her tighter. "Believe me, I get it."

Ellen peeked up at Batgirl. "Your Dad?"

Stephanie let out a short laugh. "That's a long story...but yeah. My Dad." She pat Enigma on the back. "But hey. Whatever happens between you and your Dad, we'll find your friend." Stephanie reached into her belt and pulled out a card. She passed it over to Enigma. "If you ever need to talk, feel free to call me."

Ellen took the card. "What, for real?"

Stephanie smiled. "Yeah, for real." She passed out cards like this before to people she met on the streets, usually kids like Enigma.

Ellen put the card into her backpack pocket. "Wow. I've got Batgirl's phone number." Then she heard a car on the street and looked down. Her heart sunk when she saw it was that Bolton creep's red sports car driving past. "God! When is this guy gonna show up? When are we gonna find Marisol?"

"He might not come back here," Batgirl said. "But the fact that those goons keep coming back means that they can't find him either. And I've got my contact keeping an eye out. We'll find her."

Ellen let out another huff. "So we're stuck here?"

"Half of the time I'm on patrol, I'm usually perched up on rooftops keeping an eye on things. Actually fighting bad guys is something that we hope we don't have to do."

Ellen chewed her lip a bit. "I wonder what Red Hood's doing."

She saw Batgirl's face harden a bit. "Staying out of this, I hope."

This made Ellen curious. "Do you know him? I mean, personally? It kinda seemed like you did."

Batgirl shook her head. "Me? No. But he's hurt people I care about. That's all I need to know." Then she stood up suddenly. "Hold on, my contact's calling." Ellen watched Batgirl get up and walk further down the roof. "Yeah Oracle?" Ellen watched her as she spoke to this Oracle person, not being able to hear the conversation. Then she watched as Batgirl ran back up to her. "Morton just used his credit card at a bodega about six blocks from here." She picked up her grappling hook and aimed it towards the adjacent rooftop.

"Wait!" Ellen cried out, scrambling to her feet. "I want to come too!"

Batgirl didn't hesitate to reach out to her. "Okay, grab on!"

Ellen paused for a moment, then grabbed onto Batgirl's side. At this close proximity, she could smell the odd, almost rubbery scent of her purple and black costume. She blushed as she realized just how close she was. Then Batgirl fired her grappling hook and they were airborne. Ellen bit her lip to keep from crying out, not from fear, but from excitement. Then, almost too soon, they landed on a fire escape on the building next door and dashed down to where Batgirl had parked her motorcycle. Ellen felt her heart pound as she put her helmet on and settled in behind Batgirl on her bike. Hang on, Marisol, she thought. We're almost there.