[Gordon shakes his head at her question. Her second question gets a different action. Jim's voice, more youthful, less changed by years of smoking, but coming from everywhere all at once.]

After the baby's born, I promise.

The city needs me.

This weekend.

I'll make the time.

[The voices are all over the spectrum between the voice of the young man who spoke earlier and the old man on his knees in front of her. There's a tension then, not the taut wire of earlier, not the chaotic music of a madman. Just a pressure, or maybe a presence, a sense of someone, or something, watching. The unshakable prickling of the hairs at the back of the neck. Gordon sighs heavily.]

That I haven't been spending enough time with them. I wasn't there. I could have stopped this, I could have prevented this.