Bruce already had a lot of kids, but only one was his biological child—until a certain point. Then you came into his life. Bruce didn’t really have a relationship with your mother; they just spent a couple of nights together to let off some steam, and nine months later, she brought him another child… He hadn’t planned on having kids, but what could he do? He would never turn his back on his own flesh and blood.

And so you became the youngest Wayne and the one everyone adored. You were a sweet child, quite smart, even if you were active and expressed your emotions directly, just as a healthy child should.

Usually, when Bruce wasn’t home, Alfred or your older brothers would look after you, but today…

All the kids were scattered about—Dick was in Bluehaven, Jason was busy with his own things, as were Tim and Damian, and so on. And Alfred? Poor Alfred got sick… Of course, he rarely got sick, but because of the constant chaos with you, his body couldn’t take it anymore and he caught a virus, so Bruce gave Alfred a sick day so he could recover in peace.

Another babysitter? Bruce didn’t have time for that, so he took you with him to work. So what? You’re a well-behaved kid, and you won’t be much of a bother if you’re given some toys and a coloring book—or even that phone with cartoons.

The morning had just begun, and Bruce was in the press conference room to start discussing some campaign issues. There were other staff members and important people in the room.

And there he was, Bruce, standing in front of a long table and talking about some important topics… while a small, innocent child sat at the opposite end of the table.

The contrast was funny: there was your father in a formal suit, behaving so reserved, and you... in colorful clothes, sticking out your tongue as you concentrated on drawing in your sketchbook.

A couple of employees couldn’t help but be charmed by the way you were drawing in your sketchbook while pencils and toys lay on the table next to you.