Morning.
The air inside the Blüdhaven Police Department still carried a trace of fatigue that hadn’t fully dissipated.
Dick let out a small yawn.
Not wide—subtle, like he was deliberately holding it back.
But the heaviness from lack of sleep still lingered in his eyes.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNlNUpy88XX
He didn’t stop moving.
Files were sorted, organized, archived—one after another. His motions were practiced, efficient.
Living as both a police officer and a vigilante meant his time was never enough.
He had long since grown used to pushing sleep aside, packing his waking hours tighter and tighter—as if, by never stopping, he could get just a little more done.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpvYqxE6qaf
His superior, Kyle, suddenly called out to him from across the room.
His voice carried that rough, early-morning exhaustion.
Dick looked up, quickly gathered the files in his hands, and walked over.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCOTqocrdD0
Kyle flipped through a stack of paperwork, rubbing his temples like he hadn’t fully woken up yet.
When he saw Dick approach, he spoke without preamble.
“I need coffee. I can’t function without it.”
There was no exaggeration in his tone.
Just a simple, undeniable need.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXE0s19LNq0
He pointed across the street, assigning Dick to go to a café nearby.
Then, almost as an afterthought, he added—
“The owner’s name is Claire. Very beautiful lady.”
There was an unnecessary emphasis in his voice, as if that detail somehow mattered.
“And her bagels are excellent,” he continued, this time sounding noticeably more serious.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKiyZfTXcV0
Kyle paused.
As if something had just occurred to him.
His brows furrowed slightly.
“Actually, that’s weird. When I went by this morning, it wasn’t open. She didn’t say anything about being closed yesterday.”
He waved a hand.
“Go take a look. If it’s open, get me coffee and bagels.”
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFBpcfW1OwK
Dick nodded.
He could use some coffee himself.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuNle95ocvz
He stepped out of the station.
The morning air was fresher than inside, though not quite cold enough to fully wake him up.
He stood at the intersection, waiting for the light to change.
Traffic passed in front of him—steady, monotonous.
For a brief moment, he let his mind drift.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdcQEy5IxJK
When the light turned green, he stepped onto the crosswalk.
His pace was easy, natural.
He passed a barbershop that had just opened, the metal shutter still rattling as it was being pulled up.
Then a flower shop—its display already set out front, filled with fresh blooms, colors vivid and damp with morning dew. In front of the bucket of baby’s breath bouquets, a white cat lay basking in the sunlight.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZT0HooY4z3
A few steps further—
there it was.
The café.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaQEjqfstLW
Dick knew this place.
Not because he had been inside.
But because of its position.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2NmIKBFDdQ
The balcony railing was just the right height.
The width, too.
A perfect place to perch.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQvjvzcflb5
During patrols at night, he often passed by and landed there, standing above the street, watching the surroundings.
It was a good vantage point.
Not too conspicuous.
Not too isolated.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡl1pDm5PmJ8
But every time he stopped there—
the inside was always dark.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa0TxDWghne
Unlit.
Quiet.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWsOWGH7wBO
So he had never paid much attention to whether this place was actually in use.
Until today.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3UgjjfxPMK
Just like Kyle had said—the door was firmly shut.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡa9b4xYzJ99
Dick stepped closer, stopping at the entrance.
His gaze swept over the doorknob first, then lowered—to the ground.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡK4C60bblze
There was a newspaper.
Placed neatly in front of the door.
Not blown out of place.
Not stepped on.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkzYBJlDK9x
He crouched down and picked it up.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡls4uHzyaHh
The headline was eye-catching—a politician convicted of corruption, printed in bold, accompanied by a photo.
The date was today.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5t42NgHxPh
Only one copy.
What that meant—was obvious.
Yesterday—someone had been here.
And someone had brought the paper inside.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSq27nddIDE
Yesterday’s newspaper, on the other hand—had featured a close-up of his own backside. More precisely—Nightwing’s.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHiI08UboUj
He paused for a second.
And silently hoped—that the owner hadn’t taken issue with that.
Or at the very least—hadn’t formed any… strange opinions about it.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEIbIrk1pSA
Dick placed the newspaper back where it had been.
His movement carried a touch of unnecessary care this time.
Then he stood up and looked through the glass window on the door.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ91HnvYXHnn
He leaned forward slightly, angling himself to reduce the glare, trying to see inside.
It was dark.
No lights.
No signs of activity.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡf8rErrWadR
With only the faint light from outside, he could just make out vague outlines—
the edge of the coffee counter,
the shadows of a few chairs,
and several decorative teaspoons hanging on the wall, their metal surfaces catching a faint glimmer of light.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2Y5SHMEWQb
The entire shop was too quiet.
Not like it simply hadn’t opened yet.
More like—no one was there.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaUvLEgoisE
Dick reached out and knocked on the door.
His knuckles struck the glass with a crisp sound that felt oddly out of place on the quiet street.
He paused.
Waiting for some kind of response from inside.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No lights switching on.
No one coming to open the door.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIgLc5fvf6D
He stood there for a few more seconds.
Then stepped back.
He thought for a moment.
Then turned and walked toward the narrow passage beside the building.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1flsY8GY3Q
The alley wasn’t wide.
Walls on either side, with a few stacked items cluttering the space.
The light there was dimmer than at the front.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyLXHa662KU
He moved to the back and stopped at the rear door.
For a place like this, the back would usually lead to the kitchen—
or at least to an entrance connected to it.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1SwkQKDnAj
He raised his hand and knocked.
The sound landed dull and muted
as it echoed inside.
He paused.
Still no response.
No sound at all.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ997CkL2PoB
Dick stood there, his brows drawing together slightly as his mind quickly ran through the possibilities. He didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he looked up and around, checking the alley, making sure there were no pedestrians passing through, and no obvious camera angles that could catch him here.
Once he confirmed that, he stepped to the side, grabbed onto a drainpipe, and climbed.
Almost without pause.
His body memory carried him upward. His hands and feet moved in precise, quiet coordination, and he quickly reached the height of the second floor. He paused by the window and tilted his head to look inside. Behind the glass was clutter, boxes, bags, and uneven stacks, like a storage space. There were no signs of anyone moving inside.
He didn’t stay long.
He continued upward.
A little higher, and he reached the balcony he was familiar with.
He landed on the railing and steadied himself. This time, he didn’t relax like he usually would. Instead, he turned his head, leaned closer to the sliding glass door, and pressed his ear against it, trying to listen for any sound inside.
A simple possibility crossed his mind.
Could she have just overslept?
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYwpHelWqcL
But he heard nothing.
No shifting sounds.
No rhythm of breathing.
Not even the faintest trace of everyday life.
The silence felt… wrong.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡO6igjaGctC
Dick hesitated for a moment.
Then he still reached out and knocked on the glass.
The sound was clear against the stillness of the balcony.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡovFnYHgahi
He couldn’t quite explain why, but in the moment he knocked, there was a small flicker of expectation in his chest.
That the curtain would be pulled aside.
That someone would appear.
That the “very beautiful lady” Kyle had mentioned
would be standing inside, and see him.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡooDsB4vMot
But nothing happened.
A cold breeze passed through.
The curtain didn’t even move.
The entire balcony remained unnaturally still, as if that knock had never happened at all.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnMUTQUDyLA
No footsteps.
No light.
No response.
Only the distant noise of the city drifted upward,
then quickly faded again.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcbWiQ1a2Fs
Dick’s brows slowly drew together.
That instinct in him began to shift, tilting toward something less reassuring.
At first, it had just been maybe she hasn’t opened yet.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHohnFEj4r3
But now,
it had become it shouldn’t be this quiet.
His mind moved on its own, running through possibilities.
Someone slipping in the bathroom, injured, unable to get up.
Falling down the stairs in the middle of the night, losing consciousness.
Or something simpler. An accident. No one else around to notice. Trapped inside.
One image after another flashed through his mind,
each one more concrete than the last.
He paused for a second.
Then made a decision.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVK2PgNwtze
He couldn’t wait any longer.
If something really had happened, then every second mattered.
He reached into his gear and took out a small toolkit, his movements quick and practiced.
As he worked, he gave himself a justification.
He was a police officer.
Even without a warrant, this could already be considered an emergency.
This wasn’t trespassing.
It was necessary intervention.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq1QgHLVWy5
The tool slid into the lock.
A slight adjustment.
A turn.
A few seconds later.
Click.
A soft sound.
The glass door unlocked.
Dick pulled the tool back and put it away smoothly, then reached out and pushed the door open.
He paused for a moment first, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness inside.
Then he opened the door wider and stepped in.
Inside, it was completely dark.
No lights.
No sound.
The air was so still it felt unfamiliar.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzmD09IZNsu
His gaze went first to the bed.
There was no one there.
The blanket had been pushed to one side, as if someone had just woken up, or had left in a hurry, leaving behind a trace of disorder.
That detail made the space feel not empty, but recently occupied.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡiiyOw4copJ
Then he caught the scent of coffee.
Faint.
But unmistakable.
It wasn’t the strong aroma of something freshly brewed.
It was the kind of smell that had lingered in the air for a while, spread evenly throughout the room.
For a brief moment, Dick felt something in him ease when he noticed it.
He couldn’t quite explain why.
But he quickly pushed that feeling aside.
Coffee could mean anything.
It proved nothing.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQ9sEtLejex
He stepped further in, stopping beside the table.
The surface was clean.
A pen lay on it.
Next to it, a sheet of paper.
The paper was completely blank.
That sense of something about to be done, but left unfinished, made it even stranger.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡebLlvgp0J9
Dick didn’t linger.
He turned and moved down the hallway, his steps deliberately light, though in the silence, even the faintest sound echoed back.
He checked the bathroom first.
The door was open.
No one inside.
The floor was dry, with no signs of a fall or anything knocked over.
He stopped at the end of the hallway and looked down toward the staircase.
From this angle, he could see part of the first floor.
No lights.
No sound.
Nothing at all.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzQEuMWC4X6
Dick made his way down the stairs slowly.
His steps were light, but in that kind of silence, even the smallest sound seemed amplified.
As he passed the second floor, he pushed open a half-closed door.
Inside, it was filled with clutter.
Boxes, bags, and small tools whose purpose wasn’t immediately clear were piled together, like a space temporarily used for storage.
There was even a whiteboard.
On it, written in marker
Buy potatoes on Tuesday.
His gaze swept across the room quickly.
Nothing stood out as particularly unusual.
No signs of movement.
No sign of anyone.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡFpea72k27p
He didn’t linger.
He turned and continued down toward the first floor.
At the bottom of the stairs was the café itself.
As he stepped onto the last stair, the scent of coffee became more pronounced.
No longer just a faint background trace.
It filled the space.
The aroma wasn’t strong, but it was steady, constant, like it had always been there.
Dick walked up to the counter, his eyes moving slowly across the workspace.
Everything was too normal.
The coffee machine had been cleaned thoroughly, its metal surface catching a faint reflection of light.
The filter holders were placed neatly beside it, as if they had just been used not long ago.
A cloth still hung over the rail.
Not put away, but not left carelessly either.
Just hanging there, in that state of
it will be used again soon.
The cups were arranged in order.
No excess water stains.
No residue on the counter.
This didn’t look like a place that had closed suddenly.
And it definitely didn’t look like someone had just left.
If anything,it looked like the shop would open again tomorrow, as usual.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdOapv8pJPl
Dick stood there, taking in the entire space.
The sense that something was wrong grew stronger.
He turned and headed toward the kitchen.
The lights were off, but the daylight from outside was enough to outline the room.
His gaze quickly landed on the work counter.
At the center sat a transparent plastic container, covered with a cloth.
He stepped closer and lifted it.
Inside was dough.
Dark in color.
Chocolate, most likely.
It had already risen.
The surface slightly swollen, carrying a faint sheen of moisture.
That stage meant it was ready for the next step.
Dick paused.
If someone were planning to rest, or step away for a while,
they wouldn’t leave the dough at this stage.
This was preparation.
Getting ready to open.
Not closed for the day.
He placed the cloth back over it.
There was still no sign of anyone in the entire space.
But every detail said the same thing.
Someone was supposed to be here.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvouI9bkhQf
Dick walked back to the staircase on the first floor.
He stopped there, not moving right away.
He took a breath.
The scent of coffee still lingered in the air, steady, surrounding the entire space.
He raised his head and called out, “Claire.”
His voice carried through the entire building, striking the walls before slowly echoing back.
He called again, “Claire.”
No response.
No footsteps.
No answer.
Only silence filled the space.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWSN4ZukjJi
Dick went back upstairs, carrying a string of unanswered questions.
His steps were slower than before, as if deliberately stretching out the process of checking.
He moved from the first floor to the second,
then from the second to the third.
Nothing new.
Only that same, overly clean silence following him.
In the end, he returned to the bedroom where he had entered.
The glass door was still open.
The wind flowed in from outside, carrying a hint of the cool morning air.
The curtain shifted gently, swaying back and forth, like it was waving to someone.
The image was too quiet.
Too empty, in a way that was hard to describe.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdTpGrn4Q6E
Dick stood at the doorway for a second.
Then stepped forward and closed the door.
The sound of the door closing wasn’t loud.
But in that kind of environment, it felt unusually clear.
He fastened the lock out of habit, the motion natural, as if restoring a boundary that should have been there.
In his mind, he settled on the simplest explanation.
Maybe she had just stepped out for something.
Maybe she had forgotten to put up a closed sign.
Maybe she would be back soon.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqjY6SQ1Ij8
Dick didn’t stay any longer.
He left the way he came and returned to the street.
The sounds of the morning came back into focus.
Cars.
Voices.
Footsteps in the distance.
Everything slipping back into its normal rhythm.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4OXrH6B5ze
He walked back to the station, leaving behind that brief but unsettling emptiness.
Once inside, he found Kyle and gave a short report, his tone steady and professional.
“Still closed.”
Kyle frowned slightly after hearing it,
as if quickly running through possibilities in his head.
But he didn’t ask for details.
He just nodded and said he got it.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAQaTDFQIui
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1v6vzbCOU0
Years later, the street hadn’t changed much.
The café was still in the same place.
The barbershop still pulled up its metal shutter in the morning.
The flower shop still arranged fresh flowers outside, their colors just as bright.
Only time had quietly left its marks in those details.
Dick had only been passing by.
His steps were easy, natural, like his gaze was simply sweeping over a familiar street without thought.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnEf3p2krwT
But at one moment, it stopped.
On that door, there was now a sign.
For Sale.
Simple words, stuck onto the glass.
He stood there for a while.
Then turned, almost instinctively heading back to the station, finding Kyle.
When he spoke, his tone was steady,
as if he were just confirming something ordinary.
“The café across the street is being sold?”
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTi78iaVZ9W
Kyle looked up at him, surprise clearly showing on his face.
It wasn’t the kind of expression that answered a question.
It looked more like he was being asked something stranger in return.
He paused, then said, “You didn’t know Claire’s been missing for years?”
For a moment, Dick’s expression went blank.
He didn’t respond right away.
He just froze.
Then slowly shook his head.
As the name surfaced in his mind,
another image followed with it.
That day.
Standing in that shop.
The smell of coffee.
The neatly arranged equipment.
The dough, still in the middle of rising.
A thought came to him, suddenly.
What happened to that dough?
It didn’t matter.
But the question stayed.
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡstSFLDLyCU
Kyle looked at him and sighed, his voice lower now,
like he was talking about something already past, but still a little regretful.
“Her family filed for a death certificate later, so they’re handling the estate now. That café is part of it.”
He paused, then added,
“Such a shame. She was so young.”
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQymNryh2TP
This city sat right beside Gotham.
Not far.
But deeply affected.
Crime seeped in like water, slowly, silently, changing everything.
Every day, people disappeared.
Some were found.
Some were not.
Some never even had the chance to be remembered.
Claire was just one of them.
A name that was categorized, recorded,
then placed into a statistic.
Dick didn’t say anything more.
He left.
Walked back to his desk, sat down, and turned on his computer.
His movements were calm.
He typed in the café’s address.
The results came up quickly.
On the screen were listings.
Photos.
Price.
Contact information.
Everything neatly organized.
As if that place had always been just a shop.
Not proof that someone had once existed there.
Dick stared at the screen for a while.
Then moved the cursor to the agent’s contact number.
He paused for a second.
As if thinking.
Or confirming something.
Then he picked up his phone and dialed.
The line rang a few times.
Someone answered.
Dick bought the property.
<< The Morning After the Return End >>
46Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVFwmAWYypz
Author’s Note:
(1) The meaning of baby’s breath: endless longing.
(2) Congratulations to Officer Richard Grayson for finally locating the long-missing chocolate dough.
(3) Claire appears in Chapter 29 of the novel Nora. As Grayson’s wife, she later gives birth to a daughter.
ns216.73.216.23da2
and then Add to home screen.