When Ianthe Thatcher, a 21 year old Gotham City native reluctantly accepts a seemingly promising position at Arkham Asylum, her path takes an unexpected turn.
In addition to the crumbling state of her city and the proximity of her workplace to the...
My collected attitude turned frantic as Jonathan Crane and I unloaded off the aircraft that brought us to Bhutan. It was a long journey with a few stops, but we were here. That's all that mattered. He held my hand firmly as we entered the uncharted territory. His icy grip never failing to startle me, but comforting me as it sank deeper into my skin, my bones, my heart.
My soul.
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In the days prior, I had made some very bold, life threatening moves to get my long-shot plan set into motion. Jonathan absolutely hated my idea, and to be quite frank, I did too. But what other choice did I have?
Did we have?
I accepted the money that had put the target on my head—on my life.
It took several days and insufferable meetings to acquire it. I had to prove my identity and get in contact with the orphanage my "mother" had dumped me at to prove the timeline and provide for record keeping. After days of processing and several account and card consultations, I received the inheritance.
16.4 million dollars.
But it didn't come without risk and betrayal.
The day that I was to receive the inheritance, a group of cronies came into the bank looking for me. I instantly knew who they were and why they were there—when I spotted Rhys and his entourage. He came to attempt to take my life once more under the control those evil people had over him.
I almost felt bad for him. Almost. But the fleeting feeling slipped away as quick as a bullet through a chamber.
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As it turns out, my financial consult had sold me out. No doubt a part of Gotham's criminal organization.
As I saw her talking to Rhys and the others, I managed to slip into the ladies room and convince a woman to switch coats with me. I felt bad for potentially putting her in danger as the mobsters might mistake her for me, but I couldn't let this plan fail, not now. I donned her bright pink coat instead of my own leather one, shielded my face by the hood and quickly but unhurriedly left the bank—just as I saw the consultant pointing over to where I had been waiting.
