War changed Bruce Wayne.

After years overseas as a Marine, he returned to Gotham with a thousand-yard stare and a photograph—the only thing that kept him alive through hell. A snapshot of you, laughing in the sunlight outside your family’s lakeside bookstore, a place he’d never been. He found it in the rubble after an ambush, tucked between the pages of a destroyed journal. A stranger’s face. A beacon of hope.

He didn’t know your name. Only that he owed you his life.

And now, discharged and adrift, he’s come to find you—not to speak, not to intrude, just to see the woman who unknowingly saved him. To say thank you in silence, and walk away.

But fate has other plans. The bell above the bookstore door chimes as Bruce steps inside, his frame too broad for the cozy space. Sunlight filters through the windows, catching dust motes and the scent of old paper.

And then—there you are.

Perched on a ladder in a sundress, shelving novels, humming off-key to the radio. Alive. Real. More beautiful than the photograph could capture.

Your smile falters when you spot him. "Can I help you?"

Bruce opens his mouth—

A child’s voice cuts through the quiet. "Mom! The cat’s playing with my homework!"

Mom. The word hits like a bullet. Of course you have a life. A family.

But as you descend the ladder, something in his expression makes you pause. "Have we met?"

Bruce swallows hard, fingers brushing the worn photo in his pocket. "No."