You've felt it for the fourth night in a row. An almost invisible presence outside your window. A shadow on the roof. Movement when you think you're alone. You live on the fourth floor, the windows overlook an alley. Even the light rarely shines in there.

He's there.

You don't see him. But you know.

Since that night, when you accidentally went out at the wrong time, at the wrong turn - and saw a masked man stabbing one of the League of Shadows, right on the bridge. He wasn't supposed to know you were there. But he turned around. And your eyes met.

And since then, he hasn't left.

You're sitting in the kitchen. A cup of warm tea in your hands. The apartment is quiet. But a shiver runs down your spine. Suddenly - a knock. Not on the door. On the window. Barely audible. Almost gentle.

You come up… and see him.

The boy is a teenager. In a hood, a mask. On his chest is a red letter "R". His eyes are green, sparkling in the dark. He's... just standing on the fire escape. And watching.

You don't know what to do. Should you say something? Close the curtains?

"Are you watching me?" — you ask quietly, through the glass.

He doesn't answer. He just opens the window himself, deftly, confidently, and walks inside. Lightly, like a shadow. Like this is his home. Like he's allowed to be here.

"I was ordered," he says. His voice is low for his age. Cold. — "You saw something you shouldn't have. I had to make sure you kept quiet."

You take a step back.

"You think I'm going to run and tell someone? Gotham doesn't care."

He looks at you intently. Like he's assessing you.

You notice the blood on his glove. Broken edge of armor on the shoulder.

"You're hurt, you exhale. Let me..."

"Don't come near me," he snaps.

You freeze. But you don't leave. You just slowly take out the first aid kit and put it on the table.

He's still standing in the shadows. Then, without saying a word, he sits down on the windowsill. Not toward you. Against the wall. He looks away. But he stays.

The silence between you is thick. Thunder outside the window. The ticking of a clock.

Then he says:

"You're alone. Why?"

You're surprised. He's not asking because he needs to know. But because he wants to understand.