Kate Kane sat at the reception desk for the Crows. She stared at the picture of her and her sister, Beth, framed and shoved in the corner.

The phone rang. "Crows Security, how may I—"

"There's a camera," a trembling voice whispered. "Check the shelves for lost items, April 19th, 2008. Some poor girl's been kidnapped and locked in a cellar." There was a small gasp.

"Can you tell me more?" Kate asked.

"I have to go." The voice sounded panicked. "The camera should be there—" The line went blank.

"Hello?" Kate asked, but there was no reply.

She went over to the desk a few feet away and asked the man there to trace the call she'd just received. Then she made her way down to the storage room. She wrote her name on the sheet on the wall, then took a glance at the directory. 2008 was quite a ways away. She jogged down the aisles until she found the section.

"April, April," she muttered, scanning the shelves. She saw a box marked April 19th. She pulled out a red sweater, then rummaged around a bit before stumbling upon a camera. She recognized the model as a Sony Cybershot 2.0, a model someone might have proudly shown off to everyone when she was in high school.

She clicked the power button. Nothing. She opened the battery slot. The batteries were corroded. Great, she thought, going back to the elevator. Now she had to track down some new ones

"Kate," a man said as she exited the elevator. "I tracked that call you asked about, it's coming from a payphone just outside of Gotham."

"I guess that's not very helpful," Kate said.

"It's near a sub-district where a bunch of religious people live, without technology mostly," he continued. "We get calls from it all the time, but we can never find out who made the call. I don't recommend following through, it might just make whatever is going on worse."

"I don't think it was someone from there," she said. "The person tipped me off about this camera." She held it out to him.

"What's on it?"

"I'm not sure, do you have any double-A batteries?"

He nodded and she followed him to his desk. He rummaged through some drawers and handed them to her. "You know," he said as he passed them to her, "Your dad's glad you're taking an interest. Keep up the good work."

"Thanks," she mumbled. She just wanted to forget. Forget everything.

She took the old batteries out of the camera. There did not seem to be any damage to it. She plopped the new ones in. Kate turned the dial to view the pictures. They were a bit hard to make out, but the first one seemed to be a pair of hands. They were red and blistering as if they'd been burnt. The second picture shocked her. It was Beth, with a bruised eye and a cut on her cheek that was swelling, maybe infected. Her eyes were red and swollen. She pushed the button and a video appeared. She clicked play.

Beth was looking around, scared, from behind glass.

"Quiet, they'll hear you," she said.

"Just quickly, say something only you would know," another voice said, this one young and female. "That way they can't say I faked the images. They'll have to believe me this time."

"I'm, I'm Beth Kane," she said trembling. "And my mom gave me this necklace on my thirteenth birthday and I'm not dead..." She trailed off.

"Don't worry Beth—" She was cut off by a coughing fit. "I'll get this to the station and then they'll come and get you out." She sounded out of breath.

Beth placed her hand on the glass and the camera operator did the same.

"ALICE!" came a cry from somewhere inside.

"Go!" Beth said, waving her hands. The video cut out as the operator scrambled to get up and away.

Kate was holding her breath. This had been here, all these years? And no one had said anything until now?

She went over to her desk and started pulling up the security files from April 2008. She found the files for the 19th and began to fast forward through them. A few people came in during the morning, but none of them had a camera. The afternoon was uneventful. She was a few hours into the night shift when suddenly a frantic woman ran into the station. There was no sound on the tapes, but she was hysterical and waving her arms towards the parking lot. Everyone in the station ran out. A few seconds later, paramedics followed with a stretcher. The woman sat down on a chair while a female officer gave her a shock blanket. Kane examined it frame-by-frame. Neither of them seemed to have a camera.

How did it end up here? Kate wondered.

Her colleague from before came up to her. "Shift's over." Was it? She hadn't noticed. "Was there anything special on the camera?"

"That's what I'm investigating," she muttered, brushing him off. She put the camera into her bag and walked to her locker where she got her jacket and helmet, then went out the back door to the employee parking where her motorbike was.

She decided to take the longer, scenic route. She needed to clear her head, but the images of her sister's bruised face and burnt hands were seared into her mind. Gentle little Beth—she would have cried if she'd killed a fly. Kate wasn't paying attention to where she was going. If anyone knew anything about the camera, it would have to be Alice. Was it a good idea? Alice was not stable, there's no telling what she might do to whoever had filmed the video or what she might have already done.

She barely registered where she was when she parked in the Arkham visitor's parking lot and walked over the security gate. She demanded to talk to Alice, citing a police investigation. The hands. The blistering hands. Someone had tried to help Beth. How come they had never called, done anything? were they even going to help at all? If she wanted answers, she needed a name. Alice might have a name.