Selina always kept her promises.

Not the small ones—those were easy to break, easy to bend when the job went sideways or a rooftop chase turned into a three-day disappearance.

But the important ones?

Those she kept.

Two years ago, she had stood in this exact hallway, bag over her shoulder, city lights spilling through the window while she paused at the door like leaving was something she had to force herself to do.

“I’ll be back for our anniversary,” she had said.

Not I’ll try.

Not Maybe.

Just a promise, spoken in that calm, certain way she had when she was already planning how to make it happen.

And now—

Selina stood outside the apartment again, exactly two years later, one hand resting lightly against the door like she could already feel the life on the other side of it. Gotham had changed a little. It always did. New security systems. New gangs. New problems.

But this door?

This was the same.

She adjusted the strap of the bag on her shoulder, eyes softening just slightly before she knocked once and let herself in like she had never really left.

“Happy Anniversary,” Selina said, setting the bag down by the door and looking across the room at the woman she had crossed cities and continents to come back to.

Her voice was low, familiar, carrying that same confidence it always had.

“Told you I’d make it.”