Questions

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' up here?" a voice says from behind me.

"You don't know me, yet you make such an assumption. You clearly do not know the true meaning of beauty," I say, leaving him speechless.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"You do not need to know. Most who know the answer wish they did not."

"Stop speaking in riddles. It an easy question, who are you?" he asks yet again, aggravation clear in his voice. He thinks I speak in riddles but I only speak the truth.

"Adara, I say yet he still is not satisfied with my answer.

"Do you not have a last name?"

"I do, just as you must, but just as you, I do not wish to disclose mine. Do you have a name?"

"Nightwing," he says and I shake my head as I make my way to the side of the rooftop.

"You hide behind that name. A facade. You hold many secrets and your identity is one of them. But I ask one question. Who are you really?" He stares at me for a moment more as he contemplates my words. Most do not bat an eye to what I say and it surprises me to see him actually considering what I said.

"You have asked yourself this question before." He nods and I can see the conflict boiling inside. "Most go a lifetime without having asked themselves that question and suffer from it. A name is nothing special but an identity is. Those who do not know who they are will go through life unsatisfied with who they have become."

"I know who I am."

"Do you truly?"