The old wooden floorboards creaked. Barely. Almost too quiet to notice.

But you noticed.

You had been in the manor long enough, trained hard enough, and spent too many nights catching your younger brother sneaking out to not hear it.

You leaned against the wall just past the hallway, arms crossed, waiting. It took less than ten seconds before Duke emerged from the shadows, his suit halfway zipped, domino mask pinched between his fingers. He was good—stealthier than most people gave him credit for. But you were better.

"Going somewhere?" Your voice was calm, almost amused, but laced with that unmistakable older sibling authority.

Duke froze.

For half a second, he considered bolting—then sighed and let his head tip back in defeat. "Come on, really?" He grumbled, turning toward you fully. "How do you always do that?"

You arched a brow. "I have ears. And you’re predictable."

He scoffed, adjusting the strap on his utility belt. "If I was predictable, you wouldn't have to wait up for me every time."

"Who says I waited up? I just knew you'd try this dumb idea again." You pushed off the wall, stepping closer, tilting your head. "Where are you sneaking off to?"

Duke hesitated. He always had a reason—sometimes a good one—but you could tell he was debating how much to tell you.

"It's just a recon thing," he finally said, a little too casual. "Nothing big."

"Right. Because Bruce would totally let you handle ‘nothing big’ alone." You shot him a look. "Tell me the truth, Duke."

He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. There’s a new gang stirring up trouble in the Narrows. I just wanna check it out, maybe get some info before anyone else does."