7 | Pollen

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The low hum from a running car outside reverberated through the bedroom, filling Barbara's ears until she was conscious of the sound. Snatching up her glasses, she scooted over to the nearby window and tugged back the blinds.

There, wearing a sun hat and sunglasses despite the lack of sun, was Pamela. Her statuesque figure sauntered across the driveway towards the parked Lincoln on the street where a man with dark brown hair was waiting for her. Based on the car he drove and the crisp black suit he wore, Barbara could tell he was someone with money. But who he was, she had no clue, only that he wore the dopiest grin she had ever seen.

She watched as the two greeted each other, embracing for a few seconds too long for them to just be 'friends.' After pulling herself from the man's arms, Pamela hopped into the passenger's side before the car sped off towards downtown Gotham.

No sooner had the car left, there was a loud knock at the front door. Barbara's heart leaped with joy, thinking for a second it was Jason on the other side. But then reality set in, and she realized it couldn't be. He was still missing.

"Hold on!" she shouted as she struggled to get to her wheelchair. "I'll be there in a second!"

Rolling herself down the hall, Barbara was in too much of a hurry to notice or care about the state of undress she was in. It wasn't until she opened the door and felt a cold blast of wind against her skin did she realize she should've changed. Especially now, seeing it was Richard standing in front of her. Raising the newspaper in his hand, he glanced at her and asked, "Did you see this?"

"Another Wayne employee vanishes," she repeated the headline out loud. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, just happened last night. His car was left in the Wayne Tower parking garage. His keys and everything left behind next to it." Richard made his way inside, moving past Barbara. Usually, she would have made some witty remark about this, but with the news of the missing man weighing on her mind, now was not the time.

"It sounds like he was abducted then." Barbara closed the door, cutting off the stream of frosty air pouring into the house.

Richard nodded as he examined the pot of poinsettias planted on the console table. Pinching its red petals between his fingers, he watched as they fluttered to the ground.

"Sorta like..." She couldn't say it. She couldn't say his name. Saying it would only make the ache in her heart return. But most of all, it would make his disappearance real.

He turned to her. "Like what?"

Barbara shook her head. "Nothing. It's nothing." She looked down at the petals on the floor, thinking about how they resembled the shade of Pamela's hair—a deep scarlet, almost like blood. What was it with her and blood lately? She found herself thinking about it more often than when she had first learned about periods.

Quickly tossing the morbid thought out, she turned her attention back to Richard and frowned. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm your caregiver, remember?" He tapped a pale finger against his temple.

"Right..." She shifted her eyes to the side. "Well, nurse, I need to go to the library. Think you can manage taking me?"

A smile tugged at the corner of Richard's mouth. "Sure, what do you need?"

Barbara shrugged. "Oh, it's nothing too exciting. Just more information on Pamela and the Isleys. See if she really is the granddaughter of the Pamela who moved to Seattle over fifty years ago."

He chuckled. "Sure sounds exciting."

"Trust me, reading through all that sludge about some family too rich for their own good is anything but." She sighed, already dreading all the chaff she would have to sift through to get to the wheat. "Let me go change first and then we can go."

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