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Grace arrived at home. The pain in her left cheek had intensified along the way; she was given simple medications at the hospital and to reduce inflammation with ice for fifteen minutes it would be more than enough. She threw his bag into her armchair and turned on the television, the Murray Franklin show had begun.

In what the applause harmonized Grace's living room, she went in search of ice for her face, finding only frozen food. That would be her balm. The redhead brought the package to her face and a burning was inevitable, the grimace she did would have worried more than one.

Grace watched the program but did not pay attention, her mind rambled on what happened this afternoon. All her dreams and hopes she had forged with who she considered the love of her life, it had withered which flower entering winter.

The hatred that Grace felt towards herself was immense. She wondered how she could be so stupid, so naive. Richard had always been a womanizer since she met him. It was incredible that at some point she thought he was going to change, he was going to do it for her, and however, reality hit her with great strength when she found him in his office with his secretary.

The image of them having sex on that desk had been tattooed in her memory and when she remembered it, tears flowed again. Her sobs inundated her apartment. She put aside the frozen bag, bringing her hands to her face and feeling that pain that the ice had calmed.

And the moment Richard had hit her was also permeated in her memory. Richard could be everything but hitting her had been a new level. The fear covered Grace and a possible image of her future formed in her head, thinking that if she had joined her life with him, she would never be happy.

♣♦♥♠

Grace came on time for her work at the post office in Gotham City. She was setting up her desk when she noticed how one of the mailmen, Mr. Kersh, was taking a seat next to it.

"Good morning, Grace," he greeted, exhausted. Mr. Kersh was a man of almost sixty-five years old. He had dedicated his entire life to the mail. "Good morning, Mr. Kersh," she replied with great joy. "Today looks like a quiet day, don't you think?"

"Quiet? In Gotham City? Ha!" He cried sarcastically. "First I die to a day of peace shine in this damn city."

Grace smiled awkwardly and took her eyes to the papers she had to check. Mr. Kersh stretched his legs, prepared for a long day's journey when something caught his attention on the redhead's face. He frowned and stared at Grace's left cheek, appreciating how swollen it was. "What happened to you?"

Concerned she looked at him from the corner of her eye and quickly dropped her long reddish hair to cover her face.

"An accident," she lied.

"Child, don't fool me. I know that kind of blows. It was him? Your boyfriend."

"No, no," she said quickly and nervously. "To be honest, Mr. Kersh, I was assaulted in the subway, yesterday afternoon. I was very insistent, and the thief hit me in the face."

Grace gave him a quick look and reached down to get the material out of his drawers. Mr. Kersh knit his brows even deeper, he does not believe her and sighed bitterly, getting of his chair and ready to prepare for his long day. He knocked on Grace's desk and she looked up, somewhat astonish for his action.

"I hope you leave that guy... you're a good woman, you deserve someone better."

The redhead's green eyes covered in a crystalline cape. She bent down her face and brought her hand to each eye to avoid crying. Mr. Kersh left the place and being covered in solitude, Grace prepared to start her work, typing in her typewriter the forms that she had to assign for today.

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