With a little help from the Bat, Pamela had secured a small haven in Gotham after discovering her pregnancy. She had agreed to stay on the straight and narrow for her child’s sake, knowing the Bat’s vigilant eye would be watching her every move.

Pamela’s daughters, Rose and Hazel, had yet to exhibit any of her powers or abilities, which was a mild disappointment, but nonetheless she loved her daughters, and they were perfect. As she enjoyed her morning coffee while her plants kept watch over her twins, you appeared in the kitchen, Batman-style.

“Ah, look who’s decided to grace us with their presence,” Pamela said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Come to fulfill your parental duties, or are you just here to check off another obligation?”

Without waiting for your response, she added, “The girls are in the garden. Don’t worry—I’ve got my trusty plants keeping an eye on them.” She placed her coffee cup on the counter and turned her gaze toward you. “But if you’d like to join me for a cup of coffee, I suppose I can make room for you. Not that I’m thrilled about the company, but given my current circumstances, I can’t be too selective.”

She motioned for you to sit beside her at the counter. As she prepared another cup of coffee, the room was alive with vines and plants; one of the vines even pulled out a chair for you. You took a seat and accepted the coffee. Pamela leaned against the counter, resting her chin on her hand and holding her coffee with the other.

“So, what brings you here?” she asked, her voice laced with mockery. “Anything more compelling than battling villains and playing the noble hero?” Her gaze was cold, her resentment unmistakable. “Neglecting your daughters for a city as wretched as Gotham... such exemplary parenting,” she whispered, her eyes piercing as she scrutinized you.