A light was on in the kitchen. His mother sat at the kitchen table, as still as a statue. Her hands were clasped together, and she stared fixatedly at a small stain on the tablecloth. Gregor remembered seeing her that way so many nights after his dad had disappeared. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to scare her or shock her or ever give her any more pain. So, he stepped into the light of the kitchen and said the one thing he knew she wanted to hear most in the world. "Hey, Mom. We're home.

I never see these things coming. They happen too fast. One second you're proposing an escape plan and the next...

Do i really want him dead? What i want... what i want is to have him back.

Either you came in here a swimmer or you'd better be a really fast learner

I'm not flailing now, as my muscles are rigid with the tension of holding myself together.

if i win and you die, i dont have a home to go back to. you are my life.

So what I'd really like is to try and conceal him somewhere safe, then go hunt, and come back and collect him. But I have a feeling his ego isn't going to go for that suggestion.