He was coming for me. I wanted to go off on my own somewhere and hide, but my son, who's grown so tall and able, said he would protect me, not to worry. I was behind the opened door when he fell — a whisper of conflict, a small groan, my name escaping. Too late, too late I flew at the attacker with an agony of questions, but he cut me down to nothing, easy as breathing, and then he said, "I'm not one of those tv villains who explains everything before the kill."