Selina quietly observed him from behind the
window as he sat on the couch opposite the fireplace, his lanky frame somewhat
tense, shoulders sagged and head low. It had been a couple of days since Jerome
wrecked havoc on Gotham and tried to murder Bruce, and Selina couldn’t remember
a time when she had felt more terrified for him. The moment she’d learned about
what had happened, she’d gone straight to Wayne manor, not even caring that she
was supposed to be mad at Bruce—she just wanted, needed to make sure he was okay.