Just as Claire was still scrambling for a coherent explanation, Nightwing suddenly pulled out a small notepad and pen.
Yes. A real notepad. And a real pen.
Claire had a flash of thought:64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxxQeiV390v
Where the hell was that even stored? Vein-based stationary system? Interdimensional pocket?
Nightwing’s expression was earnestly professional.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKA6OVM30ys
“Miss, can you tell me what’s been happening in your home?”
That tone was too sincere. It made Claire feel like she’d just become the designated town lunatic in a police report.
Still, she pushed ahead.
“Something gets stolen every night… but there’s never any sign of a break-in. So I figured… maybe it’s a ghost.”
—Not technically a lie.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5qoVJmHJok
In her mind, what was being stolen was the future.
She said “ghost,” but she really meant time.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡNPPowAjMDx
She glanced at their faces, half-hoping she still passed for “eccentric but manageable,” not “Gotham mental ward, tier three.”
Nightwing frowned. A real, honest-to-Bat frown. Then he scribbled something into his notebook.
Claire had a brief urge to ask whether it synced to the cloud. Otherwise, this whole report was getting wiped clean at the next reset.
“What exactly has gone missing?” he asked.
Claire hesitated. “My… my chocolate bagel dough.”
That came out embarrassingly quiet.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6uXP3QiOrT
She was praying it wouldn’t get her filed under “Midnight Breakdown #4972 – Female, Late 20s, Delusional Pastry Narrative.”
Yes. Her chocolate bagel dough had turned into plain dough.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpEAezM6VYH
The perfect ratio. The delicate chill-proofed aroma.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVwjViA5lQS
Erased. Like someone hit CTRL+Z on her effort.
This wasn’t just bagel theft.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡEisVLgLwXZ
This was a heist on her will to live.
Nightwing’s brow furrowed harder. He started writing more. In bold.
Robin, meanwhile, looked like a school kid forced to sit through a lecture on the French Revolution. His face folded in confusion, perfectly symmetrical.
“Did you hear any noises at night?”64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjLaiJlX4is
“No.” Claire shook her head. “I sleep on the third floor. It was quiet. That’s why I thought… ghost.”
Nightwing nodded again. Took another full page of notes.
“Anything else missing? Any broken locks or signs of tampering?”
“Nope.”
And then came a full string of follow-up questions.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPsO0Dh1A0x
She almost told him to stop.
It was way too procedural. She was starting to suspect Nightwing actually had a login to Gotham’s police database.
Just when Claire was about to crack from this paranormal bagel audit, both of them suddenly paused. Lifted their heads. Listened.
Then glanced at each other.
Robin bit his lip, like a kid who knew he was about to get caught.
Nightwing sighed and patted his head.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeeklj7Yz7y
“Batman’s here to pick you up.”
Then he turned to Claire. Still polite. Still sincere.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzTdic2taHd
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, ma’am. I’ll continue investigating. Hopefully, we’ll find a resolution soon.”
Claire nodded. She couldn’t not nod.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡixtxCOtynb
When a guy in a mask, with shoulders like that, speaks to you like a trauma counselor, you nod.
They walked to the window. Waved.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuhg41WFcc9
Like two city contractors who’d just finished fixing your plumbing at midnight.
Then they swung away.
Claire closed the window in a daze.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2LOgbyXWSP
She felt like an NPC who’d just wrapped a side quest she didn’t know she’d started.
She climbed back into bed.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYFSG7bCJG2
Closed her eyes slowly.
A final thought floated to the surface:
So… Batman really does come to this part of town at night.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh6EAYeKY6x
To pick up his kid, no less.
64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡldEuhi9tjj
Claire opened her eyes.
She was back.
Same jazz music.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhxfSCCIAN7
Same crease in the pillow.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxicT8hQyxw
Even the sunlight hit the bed in exactly the same slant as before.
She sat up, and a ridiculous thought crept into her head:
—Technically, she could just keep booking hotel rooms forever.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPzdHMs4yJS
Live the dream. Sleep for free.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡS5ieVl6KqT
No bills. No consequences.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡh51xOZxmXg
Time would reset before the credit card charge even processed.
“Calm down, Claire. You’re a law-abiding citizen,” she said to herself, with the conviction of someone who needed to believe it.
Just because the world had no tomorrow, didn’t mean you got to have no principles.
She decided to head to the café. Her morning existential spiral was basically on a schedule now, and the bagels never came out before ten anyway.
Which meant—almost certainly—that the blue-eyed cop would show up again.
And sure enough, right on the dot, ten o’clock.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYWwEde1d5q
The door swung open.
Claire looked at him.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJBDNQMkNUS
Those eyes.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbAjYJhpeqo
Something about them felt familiar.
Had she seen them before? Or was it just that “default human template” kind of face? Was that a thing?
Before he could even speak, Claire opened a paper bag and handed over the exact number of bagels, pulling them from the tray with the ease of a choreographed routine.
The blue-eyed officer blinked. “How’d you know how many I wanted?”
Claire shrugged. “Hmm… psychic powers?”
He blinked again. Not suspicious, just processing—like someone who’d seen a lot of weird things in the city, but still needed a second.
“Don’t overthink it,” Claire said.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUgu4Zdnx1P
“Just a guess. Go on, now.”
But he didn’t leave right away.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfRTG2ms8rQ
He lingered for a beat, then stepped up to the counter.
“I’m Richard Grayson,” he said. “Call me Dick. If you ever need anything… I’m around.”
Claire nodded, but something inside her tensed.
It was the first time—the very first time—since the resets began that someone had told her their full name.
The first time a stranger had reached through this infinite loop and offered something—anything—that could’ve carried into tomorrow.
Even if she knew, for her, tomorrow wouldn’t come.
Dick turned and walked out, shoulders back, that easy gait of a man who belonged in black-and-white detective films.
Claire watched him go.
There was something about that silhouette, too.64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMTBOGdh2Gd
Something she swore she’d seen before.
64Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaolgpemwCE
