Barbara Gordon nodded lightly as she looked at the woman before her, who resembled a black cat.
"Is everything ready?"
"Of course. Otherwise, why would I be standing before your family?"
Catwoman smiled, then moved behind Barbara, casually gripping the handles of her wheelchair as she continued.
"But are you sure you're ready to stay in this damned Gotham under these circumstances?
If you ask me, your father is still very responsible. At least he wanted to send you away immediately, and the place he arranged was quite suitable."
"But I'm a Gotham native. After living in this city for so long, maybe I've already adapted to it, right?"
Barbara gave a noncommittal explanation, then raised her right hand and lightly tapped the armrest of her wheelchair.
"Anyway, take me to the place we prepared. This city is in serious trouble, and I'm not someone who runs away at the last minute."
"Mm."
Hearing Barbara's words, Catwoman nodded. But just as she was about to wheel Barbara away, she could not help asking one more question.
"By the way, are you sure you don't want to tell your father?"
"He understands me better than I understand myself. Let's go!"
Barbara answered without hesitation. The two immediately slipped out of the room quietly. Catwoman's steps were especially light; even while pushing the wheelchair, she made no sound at all.
Seven or eight minutes later, Commissioner Gordon carried a plate of passable fried eggs and toast out of the kitchen and returned to the dining room.
Obviously, he did not see his daughter.
However, Gordon did not look surprised. Holding the plate, he turned and went to his daughter's room, briefly looking over her luggage.
A few clothes were missing, along with the little tools his daughter had always been tinkering with.