Everything is quiet. The silence is thicker than usual at the manor. Nothing felt like it was back to normal; at least, that's what I thought would happen like the last time. On the other hand, Alfred tried to bring the amusement back up, but it didn't feel the same. Instead, I talked to her or not; she was part of my home at once. Daisy didn't say a single word yesterday. She couldn't bring herself to tell me that she wanted to be left alone, which brought me a satisfying comfort. On the other hand, she could say to me it's over when she has thought about it and come up with her answer. I left her a message to keep me notified if she was home, but I didn't get any response back.

It's seven in the morning, and I didn't shut my eyes one bit; instead, I'm observing god knows what from the glass window. The city kept moving forward, and everyone was either heading to work or back home from the club. Some others than dropheads are sitting outside in the cold. It's raining again, but it didn't bring me any peace. If anything, it reminded me of that night when she said those sentences.

"You are fucking Batman."

I shut my eyelids, squeezing as my nostril flares in frustration. The thought of that sentence broke me completely, not because she finally knew but the way she said it, and it felt like she was digging her tone into it to make it as evident as possible for me.

"Good morning Bruce," I hear Alfred in the background, but I don't move a muscle. The sound of Alfred pouring himself a coffee as he tries to keep a conversation going, but I couldn't get myself to have a conversation about whatever. I had Daisy to worry about and the killer, but I would have to leave Daisy alone for a while and figure out who the killer was by now.

"Did you look at the third riddle?" Tilting my head towards Alfred, in which he slowly nods.

"I brought the rat out, and he shot him in the neck from the window. There got to be a reason. Carmine is in the hospital for days by now." I said in frustration.

Alfred takes the chance to step a little closer, holding his cup on the left side and his stock on the right one. "Well, he made it known who he is but hasn't shown his face yet to confirm exactly."

I look back at the window, trying to calculate everything. Alfred limps his way to the office until one of my elderly maids decides to come by with Makayla to clean the manor. That's when I figured her scent would be all gone.

I lean against the doorway from the office and watch Alfred opening packages till one of the convolute that appears to be new is in his hands. He presses his finger against the glasses to push them further up as he grabs a small knife to cut them open, in which I slowly narrow my eyes.

"How did it go with Daisy?" Alfred breaks the silence. I look up at him, removing my attention from the convolute.

"She needed space to think about it," I reply quietly. I didn't want to talk about her, at least not for right now, but Alfred insisted on it.

"Well," he trails off as he flicks the convolute and digs his hands there. "Now, there's no more lying about your feelings for her or who you are."

I shrug and darts my eyes on the floor, trying not to overthink. It's hard for me to overthink situations because I tend to brush them off and focus on what I can figure out, but Daisy brought out another side.

My eyes slowly dart back to Alfred, but come to my surprise; he is holding a new card. I quickly lean up from pressing my arm against the doorway. My eyes widen a little as I stare at Alfred.

He turns it around and notices a red mark saying "FIREPROOF" until he flips it around and sees a bomb attached to the box itself. Alfred instantly throws it away as the bomb explodes.

The fire is burning through the curtain and around the lines of the floor, and I couldn't manage to get back on my feet after falling from the explosion. My breathing starts to be heavier than usual due to the smoke. The sound of ringing echoes my ability for me to hear anything else. I tilt my head towards Alfred, who lifelessly lies on the floor, making me instantly panic. Gaining as much strength as possible, I immediately try to get back on my feet and inch toward him, although my leg is bleeding from shattered glasses digging into it.

I hear one of the maids calling the ambulance in the background as I grab hold of Alfred, trying to bring him to his feet. He is gasping for air from the thick smoke and the fire surrounding the office. I manage to bring him out and place him on one of the sofas I have in the hallway, watching the maid talk as fast as possible on the phone.

Looking back and forth at Alfred made me worried about if he was alive or not. I quickly kneel down and shake him a little bit, to which he opens his eyes slowly.

"Stay with me. They are on the way." My voice sounds unsteady, almost with fear growing inside of me.

I notice he is bleeding through his chest, splinters through his fingers, and minor open wounds on his cheek. My patient slowly drifts away, looking back at the maid in frustration.

"Hurry up, he is bleeding!"