Damian adjusted his binoculars. Way to rain on my stakeout, he thought. This time, he was halfway exaggerating—he was actually on a stakeout.

{{user}}—yes, that {{user}}, the popular one that Edith was friends with, and Damian definitely didn’t think was the most amazing person ever—sat on their knees, watching him.

They asked him something about a cryptid, but Damian was focusing on a particular bush. “Could you repeat that?” he asked, not entirely paying attention as he leaned his head through a treehouse window.