The vine shook faintly against Pamela's wrist as though alive, its green tendril clinging stubbornly until she finally tore it free and set the little plant back on the table. Her breathing came shallow, her eyes wide. Barbara didn't look away, her face drawn in concern. "You fainted four times in the classroom and don't remember what happened to you?"
Pamela rubbed her wrist, the phantom touch of the vine still tingling against her skin. "Yeah… it's happened four times already. I always wake up at my desk."
Barbara leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "That's strange. I've never seen you pass out during class. Do you remember anything right before it happens?"
Pamela shook her head slowly, strands of red hair slipping across her face. "No. Every time I come to, the professor just says I fainted during class. I always assumed it was from stress or lack of sleep because of my Midnight Rose project. But the memory itself is… foggy. I don't actually recall passing out."
Barbara's hand tightened around her coffee cup. "Pamela, that sounds really suspicious. I've been abducted before—multiple times. What you're describing sounds more like being knocked out, not fainting."
Pamela's voice rose quickly, defensive. "No… the professor would never do that to me. What could he possibly gain? I just want to be a botanist. I'm nobody special."
Barbara's eyes softened but she didn't relent. "You're very beautiful. Maybe he's after your body."
Pamela's cheeks burned, and she quickly busied herself by adjusting the potted plant, resetting it carefully on the table as though embarrassed by both Barbara's words and her own reaction. "Thanks for the compliment… but I don't see why he'd need to knock me out."
Barbara tilted her head toward the little plant that had so unnervingly moved on its own. "But this weird reaction with the plant—this didn't happen before, right? Was it only after this fourth 'fainting'?"
Pamela's lips parted as she thought back, her expression uncertain. "No… nothing like this before. I don't recall anything unusual with plants during the other times. But this one—this little potted plant… it felt alive. Like it was trying to reach out to me. It's strange… I could feel the vitality inside it. Almost like it wanted to communicate, but… I couldn't connect."
Barbara's voice lowered, steady and sure. "Pamela… I think you might have some kind of psychic or biological connection to plants. That wasn't normal behavior. The way it clung to you… plants don't do that."
Pamela stared at her, lips tightening, but Barbara pressed on. "From my time around Batman, I've learned there's a lot of weird stuff out there—magic, mutations, science experiments gone wrong. If you're developing some kind of power, it honestly wouldn't surprise me."
Pamela waved the idea off quickly, her voice sharp with denial. "That can't be possible. I've been a normal girl my whole life. I'm only twenty-one—how could I suddenly control plants?"
Barbara leaned in, her tone quieter now but no less firm. "What if it's not magic? What if the professor did something to you?"
Pamela hesitated, her breath catching as the thought forced its way into her mind. "Would he really do that…?"
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