EPILOGUE
Alfred unwrapped the morning paper over the kitchen counter and thumbed through the pages, stopping abruptly and glaring at an article reading Harley Quinn Commits Suicide in Arkham Cell.“Oh dear.” He whispered to himself and dropped the paper on the table.
In the cave, Batman stood solemnly at the illuminated glass cylinder containing the costume of Jason Todd. His cowl was off but his face was cloaked in shadow. He put his hand to the glass and lowered his head.
A hand rested gently on his shoulder. “You did the right thing, Bruce.” Alfred whispered in a calming voice. Bruce glanced over his shoulder. “I failed, Alfred.” He said. “Not at all, sir. You brought the city back from the brink of total destruction. The life of that madman is fair trade, and besides, his blood isn’t on your hands. You tried to catch him and you missed. Accidents happen.”
Bruce looked up at the costume that was once filled by the boy who’s life Joker ended without warning or reason. Even as he died, Joker had gotten the last laugh. “Yes, accident.” Alfred looked confused. “It was an accident, wasn’t it sir?”
Bruce turned around and marched up the walkway, leaving Alfred standing in the shallow light of the batcave. “Sir?”
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