The Way We Fall | Bruce Wayne

CHAPTER 22 - Investigation

"The sergeant is here, Ms. Carter," Alfred said from the other side of the bedroom door, interrupting her self-imposed isolation.

"I'll be there in a minute," she called back, standing up from the balcony chair. Despite Alfred and Bruce's invitations to walk the grounds, explore the library, or watch television, Sara had decided to remain secluded in her room. Where she could sulk and dwell on her remorse. And anticipate the sergeant's possible evidence against her.

Should they discover her involvement, what would become of her then? She'd be fired from Gotham Tech, her reputation forever tarnished. As if her reputation would even matter after who knows how many years in prison.

In the back of her mind, another thought arose. How could she ever face Bruce after that? It was almost surprising that she'd be even concerned with such a thing. His opinion of her didn't matter now, neither would it matter then. Yet she'd never felt such heavy guilt after doing what she was hired to do. Why should she care now?

Sara splashed cold water on her face at the bathroom sink. No amount of makeup would hide the circles under her eyes, not that she even had any. Since breakfast, she'd changed into the clothes she was given when she left the hospital. A blue blouse a size too big and baggy gray sweatpants. The same clothes she wore yesterday. Her long hair had been burnt in several places. A nurse had graciously helped her to cut the singed ends off and wash it.

But overall, she looked like a mess.

Who would've thought that she was the vice president of one the largest companies in the city? In her world, appearances meant everything. Though they weren't always true on the surface.

Sara gave it a thought for a moment before she left the bedroom and hurried down the stairs.

"Ms. Carter, this is Sergeant Gordon," Alfred introduced her to the gray-haired policeman.

Sara searched his eyes for any sign of suspicion or distrust. Something that would tell her if she would be walking out of there in handcuffs.

They shook hands. "It's good to hear that you're doing better," he said, then got straight to the point. "I'd like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind, then I think I'll be able to answer some of yours."

She nodded and they followed Alfred to the parlor. Bruce had yet to join them. For once, she felt unnerved by his lack of presence. She had hoped not to face the sergeant alone. But maybe it was better this way. Should anything incriminating be revealed, she wouldn't have to see the look on Bruce's face.

Sitting on the couch, Sara willed herself not to tremble. She choked back the fear, not allowing it to rise to the surface.

"Do you remember anything specific before the fire started?" Sergeant Gordon asked, clasping his hands.

"No, everything seemed fine. I had just-" She stopped herself short when she saw a certain fashionably late billionaire walk into the room, thankfully fully clothed this time.

"Sergeant Gordon." Bruce shook the older man's hand in greeting before taking a seat next to Sara. A little too close for comfort.

She shot him a glance before continuing. "...I had just gotten back from the charity fundraiser."

"Mr. Wayne was with you when you arrived?"

Sara nodded, looking away from Bruce. "He just dropped me off. Then I went straight to my apartment."

"It was about one in the morning," Bruce chimed in, "I didn't see anyone else around the building."

The sergeant held his hand to his chin in thought. "Ms. Carter, where were you when the fire started?"

The initial nightmare flashed into her mind. "I was asleep. By the time I woke up, it had already spread to my place." She could remember the entire scene, as if it'd been burned into her memory.

That seemed to catch his attention. "You didn't hear the alarms?"

"I heard them, only after I was already inhaling smoke."

"Either they malfunctioned," Bruce spoke up, his brows furrowed, "or the fire must've started pretty quickly." Sara looked at him. Since when was he a detective?

Sergeant Gordon prompted her to recount the events leading up to when she had passed out. There wasn't much to tell. Both men seemed focused on just how fast the fire had started and developed. She should've had time to escape before it became so severe.

"And what's the last thing you can remember?"

That was where it all got fuzzy. The fumes had already taken affect. She could recall the heat and the feeling of suffocation. Like her lungs were burning from within. She had managed to get to a window, and that's just about where her great escape ended. But before she succumbed to unconsciousness, something had burst through the window. She distinctly remembered the innumerable shards of glass landing on the floor, narrowly missing her face. And the last thing she saw...

...was a masked face.

Sara went pale. That slight detail hadn't reappeared in her mind before. Only now as she thought deeper, probing her memory.

"The Batman..." she began at last. "He got me out of there."

Sergeant Gordon nodded. "He was able to get to you before the floor caved in."

Batman was the one to thank for saving her life? Surely he couldn't have known who she was without the suit. And if he had, she doubted he would've done what he did. "What about everyone else? Did he-"

"Oddly enough, they had time to get out. The fire started right next door to your apartment, making you the most vulnerable."

"And the likely target," Bruce interjected.

Next door... "Was it apartment 5B?" Sara asked, beginning to gather the puzzle pieces.

"That's the one. Investigation showed that it started as a kitchen fire," the sergeant said, eyes narrowed.

Looking across the coffee table to Sergeant Gordon, her expression was grim. "My neighbor's been gone on a vacation for a week."

The three of them exchanged knowing glances. No doubt that it was arson.

The sergeant was the first to speak after that."I've had detectives on the case for the last week, but it's hard to swab for prints when the whole place is in ruins."

Sara flinched. Refusing to watch the news coverage, she could only try to picture whatever was left. It couldn't be pretty. And everything she owned wouldn't be in much better shape. Including her suit. "Sergeant Gordon, were any of my things able to be recovered? There was this metal box under my bed. It had keepsakes, family heirlooms... I just can't lose it."

"I'm not sure, but I'll let you know."

She thanked him, silently hoping they'd come up empty handed. It'd be better if it had gotten destroyed.