Then, the date on the digital clock on her nightstand. August 12th. The numbers seemed to glow with a significance that made her chest feel tight.

The heavy oak door clicked shut, leaving Y/n alone in the sunbeam. The house was silent in that specific, hollow way that meant it was empty of everyone but her and Alfred. Down the hall, the door to Dick's room was open, the bed perfectly made. Jason's leather jacket was absent from its hook. No sound of Damian's disciplined morning routine echoed from the east wing.

On the desk, a thick envelope from Georgetown University sat unopened. Next to it, a pen, ready for the final signature that would make it official. Bruce had promised. Today, of all days, he had promised they would do it together.