A generation of Anaxandros’ carrying dad’s faded genes…what a thought. That’s what I was thinking, believe it or not, as I woke up hanging by...my bound wrists from a hook about fifty feet in the air. I recognized the smell of fertilizer and rotting wood, the stale smell of the Gotham River. I couldn’t feel my hands except for a dull throbbing in my wrists and a burning, tearing sensation as the robe dug into my flesh. I thought back to dad and wondered what it was that I could go back in time. I was a bit younger than her. But she did not force me to do anything, I may not have known what I was getting into, but I went willingly. I have no regrets about it other than what others might think of her, and of myself.” I dared to glance up into Maggie’s eyes and hold them briefly to make my point and show her my sincerity. She sat stunned, her mouth barely open, her jaw moving as if to speak. I know she was doing the math in her head and double checking it before processing what I had. More

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