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Gwen stared down at the city. Her city. Her home. Her responsibility. It hurt to think how the world worked. Good people forced to do bad things for the sake of loved ones.
Murdock clapped her on the shoulder, putting an arm around her. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he said.
"You're blind."
"Doesn't mean I don't remember how it looks. Especially on a night like this." He took a deep breath and the wind whipped his red hair over his forehead. At that moment, he didn't look as old as Gwen always assumed he was. Not quite old enough to be a brother. Not quite young enough to be interesting.
"You weren't always blind?"
"No," he said. "Accident. I was a child."
Gwen looked away and back down at the city, blinking lights like earth stars. "I'm sorry," she said. She wasn't really. But it felt appropriate.
Murdock shrugged. "The city takes, but it always returns," he said.
He squeezed her shoulder then let her go. Gwen could hear the tap-tapping of his long cane against the concrete.
“Keep that in mind, Miss Stacy.”
Gwen stared out on her city, watching the lights twinkle, listening to traffic as if it were the hum of the universe. So evil might force her hand for the sake of the greater good.
But if the city took, Gwen could be sure of what it would return.