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JR's boots make a thundering rumble walking up the steel staircase of John Ross's condo. The years have slowed JR's gait but his steps are deliberate and unwavering. He clenches his jaw as he reaches the large brushed steel door. Damn this modern architecture and its ugly metal, he thinks. His watch reads only 11:17 p.m. He's surprised how quickly he got here; anger always did give him a lead foot. He repeatedly rings the door bell. No answer. JR looks squarely at the security camera, its red dot pulsing as it records. He steps backwards on the landing and looks up. Lights glow through the bottle glass windows upstairs and cast someone's shadow near the pane. JR's eyes narrow. He rings the bell again. Nothing.

"Open this door right now John Ross! Right now, boy, or I'll draw you out," he shouts and rings the bell once more.

John Ross's voice comes out of the intercom, "I'm busy Dad. Not a good time. You're drunk. Go home."

JR presses the 'reply' button, "Tell the girl you've got up there to put some clothes on. This will not wait. You come down here right now or - "

"GO HOME OLD MAN," John Ross says. JR stares at the intercom on the wall. He pulls his hat down low, slowly turns around and draws a pistol from a cross holster under his suit jacket. He fires one shot into the front tire of John Ross's black Ferrari parked in the driveway. The tire blows out after the gun shot's boom.

A shirtless John Ross opens the front door minutes later. "Are you crazy?" he yells and looks at the flattened tire, his car askew.

The neighbor's bedroom light goes on and she appears in the open window, "What's happened? Everything alright John Ross?"

"Good evenin' Mrs. McManus, it's John Ross's daddy, JR Ewing," he says and tips his hat. "My son did not respond to reason so I had to get his attention. Important family matter. I'd sure never leave my daddy out on the porch if he came calling at this time of night. Though I am sorry for disturbing you, ma'am. I hope you're not afraid?"

The older lady looks at John Ross and shakes her head. "Kids got no respect today, JR. It's a damn shame. And you sure as hell didn't scare me. This is Texas. We don't jump at every little pop around here, do we?" she says and waves. "Ya'll settle your score, you hear? Time's precious," she says before disappearing from the window.

JR pushes John Ross on the chest and he backs into the open front door. Elena stands wrapped in a towel halfway down the inside stairs. "Get your clothes on honey. You're goin' home for the evening," JR says. She looks at John Ross.

"Elena's not going anywhere. Say whatever you got to say in front of her."

JR looks at Elena and smiles. "This is Ewing business, young lady. You can hop in and out of bed with my son as much as you want but that don't make you any more Ewing then the next girl. Now have some self respect and go on home, honey."

John Ross stays quiet. Elena fights back tears and runs upstairs. JR stares at John Ross who says, "You got a lot a nerve comin' over here like this."

"Yes, yes I do. And don't you forget it," JR says as Elena emerges dressed from the bedroom, walks downstairs and out the front door without a word.

"Well, you happy now?" John Ross says.

"No. I'm not happy at all. CALL YOUR MOTHER," JR shouts.

"What?"

"You heard me. When's the last time you talked to your mama?"

"I don't know, maybe a week ago? She put you up to this?"

"Nobody puts me up to anything, boy. You don't know when you last talked to her means it's time to call her, you understand?"

"What do you care? She - "

"Listen to me. I just came from dinner with her and she praised you from front to back. Proud as can be of you and not a bad word to say. She told me she's sick. You do remember that, don't you?

John Ross rolls his eyes. "Yeah I know. But she's feeling fine. Why are you so shook up anyway? You yourself used to say she slept around enough to -"

JR slaps John Ross across the face. "Shut up, goddammit. That's your mother you're talking about. What's the matter with you? Anything good in you came from her. You got her to thank for your very life. I damn near killed her with heartache. I'll be damned if I let you do the same."

John Ross stands across from JR stunned, blinking from his stinging cheek.

"Things gonna change in this family," JR says. "We're going back to the Ewing ways and I won't hear otherwise. Starting tomorrow, family dinner at 6 o'clock every Sunday at Southfork and you will be there. So will your mother. Is that clear?"

"And what if don't show up?"

"You really are fond of that little Mexican girl aren't you? She sure is pretty. Well, if you don't come to dinner maybe I'll invite her to fill your chair and we'll talk about you and all the pretty girls in your life. She knows about them, right?" JR asks. John Ross clenches his fists. JR looks at his watch. "Well, this was fun. It's late. Goodnight, son. No hard feelings? I know I let the helm drift and I'm sorry about that. But I'm back at the wheel now and I'm gonna set everything right. You'll thank me for it, you'll see," JR says as he lets himself out. "Call your mother!" he yells over his shoulder.

Finally, the man thinks as he watches the valet open Sue Ellen's car door for her. He texts "I got the eye" to Harris Ryland on the disposable cell phone just as if he were on a real stakeout, he thinks rather wistfully. He shakes his head clear, inhales a deep breath of cold night air and starts his car. Here we go.

Sue Ellen drives home slower than usual; she's not particularly anxious to get there. Truth be told, she'd rather continue talking to JR about John Ross, Harris Ryland, Southfork, the weather, anything really. This was one of the best visits she'd had with him in years. Lord, he'd even cried for her, albeit with his back turned. No matter. His heart bled tonight when she'd least expected it and she's driving home a different woman than the one who arrived at the Omni Hotel hours earlier. She sighs contently.

Sue Ellen looks through the moon roof of her Porsche Panamera. The night wind has blown the black sky cloudless. The stars will not be ignored tonight, sparkling through the tinted glass. She opens the moon roof and the crisp air swirls her hair up through the opening. She feels invigorated, stimulated and all together fabulous. Why not prolong this enjoyment and take the road less traveled? She turns off the highway onto the quiet road along the lake. As she passes, the moon casts a silver net on the water's surface. Just then Patti Page begins singing "Try to Remember" on the radio. Sue Ellen sings along to the chorus until her voice cracks with emotion when Patti says, "try to remember when life was so tender." Her chin trembles and she quickly changes the station. Don't be ridiculous, she tells herself. Her life with JR was anything but tender.

"Stop this carrying on right now," she tells herself.

Sue Ellen drives no more than 50 feet around the bend when red and blue lights flash in her rear view mirror. The brightly colored strobes startle her. She hadn't noticed anyone driving behind her along the lakeside. She certainly wasn't speeding. What is this about? She continues a short distance and veers to the right, hoping the officer wants to pass. He follows her over and activates a pulsing siren. She hesitates to stop. The deserted road is only illuminated by the two vehicles' lights. But the strobes are on a light bar affixed to the patrol car's roof. The vehicle looks legitimate.

Too many crime shows, Sue Ellen decides and laughs nervously while coming to a stop. She sees a lone silhouette in the driver's seat. Suddenly a screen in the vehicle illuminates the man's face. Sue Ellen exhales. He is wearing a police uniform. The officer appears to be typing and speaking into a radio. Sue Ellen readies her driver's license and registration. She realizes she is not wearing her seatbelt. Of course, no wonder the stop.

Sue Ellen lowers her window as the officer approaches the driver's side door. "Good evenin' officer. Is something wrong?"

"Driver's license and registration please, ma'am."

"Yes, certainly. Here you are," Sue Ellen says with a smile.

The officer quickly looks at her information, then shines a large flashlight in her eyes.

"Officer, please. Is that necessary?" she asks, blinking at the bright light and shielding her face.

"Where are you coming from tonight, Mrs. Ewing?"

"Excuse me?"

Sue Ellen gets the flashlight in the eyes again. "Where are you driving from and to?" the police officer repeats.

"Well, I had dinner out and now I'm goin' home, if you must know," she says. "If you'll just tell me what this is about, we can both be on our way. It's such a chilly night…"

The officer stares at Sue Ellen. "You have anything to drink tonight, ma'am?"

"What? No. No I did not."

"Step out of the car, please."

"Why? What - "

The officer places one hand on his gun holster. "Are you resisting my command? Step out of the car now!"

Sue Ellen's heart pounds in her ears. What is happening here? She fumbles with her door handle and exits the car. The officer keeps one hand on his holstered gun. Sue Ellen stands in the beam of the police cruiser's headlights, the wind blowing her silk dress about. She looks up and down the road, not another motorist in sight. Although shaking, she looks squarely at the officer trying to make out his name tag. He does not wear one.

"Turn around please, Mrs. Ewing"

"What, what for?" Sue Ellen says, close to tears.

"Just do as I say, please, and this will all be over soon."

Suddenly Sue Ellen remembers Ruby's warning about someone meaning her harm under the cover of righteousness. This can't be, can it? The officer removes handcuffs from his belt. She considers running but there is nowhere to go. Ruby also said not to pull the serpent's tail. Breathing heavily, Sue Ellen does as the officer says and turns around. She tries to make out what he is doing from his reflection in the police cruiser's windshield but it's too dark.

"Now face me please," he says. She does. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?" he taunts. "Now then. I smell alcohol on your person ma'am and I'm going to give you a field sobriety test."

Sue Ellen's mouth drops. She goes to speak but thinks better of it. She needs to get away from this man. Perhaps if she cooperates, she will.

"Place your feet 12 inches apart. Hold your arms out to the side, tilt your head back and close your eyes. Touch each index finger to your nose alternately until I tell you to stop. Do it now."

As the wind whips her hair around and she holds back tears, Sue Ellen follows instructions. The officer focuses a cell phone on her as she performs the test and tries to take pictures but his gloved finger won't activate the button. He rips the Latex glove off and quickly takes several photos with the police car in the background.

"Stop. Now with your arms out to your side, walk toe to heel in a straight line towards me."

Sue Ellen breathes rapidly. The officer smiles. "Come on now. I'm not gonna bite ya," he says.

She slowly walks to him, carefully touching toe to heel in a perfectly straight line. She stops a few feet away from him. He looks her up and down, licks his lips and says, "You go straight home now, you hear?"

And just like that, he was gone. Sue Ellen leans against her car and nearly hyperventilates as she watches the police car drive off. What just happened? She feels disoriented and confused but one thing is certain, this was a sinister encounter, she is sure of it. She watches the police car's tail lights fade into the distance and only then does her breathing slow. As she turns to get in her car, something catches her eye on the road in the red glow of her parking lights. A crumpled black Latex glove lies on the asphalt. Sue Ellen collects it, turns her car around and speeds off toward the main highway.

Two miles down the lakeside road, the officer turns left into the empty parking lot of Rolly's Donut's and anonymously emails the cell phone photos of Sue Ellen with the subject of "Gov Candidate Sue Ellen Ewing Drunk Again" to the newspaper and television station tip lines Harris Ryland chose.

The young staffer working the tip desk enlarges the four photos, looking for evidence of digital tampering. After examining the images for a good while, she picks up the desk phone and calls her entertainment editor.

"Mr. King, it's Janet. Sorry to call you so late, but I think we've got something here."

"Oh? What's come in? And if it involves a Kardashian shame on you for piquing my interest."

Janet smiles. Sure "The Dallas Dispatch" entertainment section was a little on the campy side, but at least it focused on local celebrities and goings on that affect the community more directly than a Hollywood starlet's latest court appearance.

"Nope, not a Kardashian in sight. I'm lookin' at four photos of what appears to be Sue Ellen Ewing performing a field sobriety test for a police officer tonight."

"Ewing? Of the 20 years sober variety?"

"That's the one."

"My, this is interesting. Details?"

"The tip email box received the photos at 11:28 p.m. They're digital, time and date stamped for tonight and possibly from a cell phone camera judging by quality. There's a police car in the background with blue and red lights on. It's a pretty dark road so she's kind of backlit from the squad car's headlights and tinted reddish from another vehicle's rear lights, possibly her own car because a silver rear left fender's in the shot with lines similar to a Porsche."

"Anonymous sender?"

"Of course. They typed 'after dinner at the Omni Hotel with JR Ewing tonight' and a sad face. I called every restaurant in the Omni and finally got a talker at the steak house. A waitress confirmed they were there from about 8 to 11, and described what she wore. Matches the dress in the photos exactly."

"JR Ewing, huh? Well that's interesting in itself, isn't it?"

"Tell me about it. Those two are like our very own Liz and Dick. So do you want to run the pictures?"

"How confident are you they're not altered? Did you check the neck? The background shadows?"

"I checked all those things and more. This isn't Sue Ellen's head on someone else's body. Like I said, the outfit matches and it's an unusual dress, a purple designer number. No blending on the neck, no missing shadows of objects. Looks legit."

"What's her face look like? Her expression?"

"Well on two shots her head is tilted back slightly, eyes closed, lips pressed together. On the other two her head's more upright and her mouth is open, maybe gasping? Maybe even crying if you look at her eyes. They are scrunched closed and the skin around them glistens a little, like it's wet."

"Boy I'd sure like to see these pictures before deciding, but you know the drill."

"Yup. Can't be held accountable for what you didn't see."

"Anything else from the sender? IP address?"

"Yes but two different ones. The photo attachments came in two parts, one right after the other. The different IP addresses suggest it's a cell phone, probably a prepaid one and you know where that leads."

"The proverbial brick wall. And you called for comment?"

"Left a voice message at her campaign office, albeit at 12:15 a.m. on a Saturday night but yes, I called for comment."

"Well let's not fret any further about source issues until the photos are challenged. You've done due diligence up to our capability as recipients. This is big news to our gadfly community and of interest to voters. Let's run with it, but phrase the headline as a question not a statement. Post it online now and see if Production can get it in tonight before press time for tomorrow's paper. Good work, Janet."

Across Dallas, staffers with two other local papers, a tabloid website and the Dallas affiliate of NBC news are having similar conversations with their editors and producer.

Sue Ellen checks her rear view mirror every few minutes for the rest of the drive home. The way that officer appeared out of nowhere, she can't shake the feeling he'll do it again. At least she's back on the highway, bustling with other drivers coming and going. Maybe she's being silly, paranoid even. Could this have been a random encounter? He never did say the reason for the stop. Weren't officers supposed to state that? She wished there was someone waiting for her at home to talk to.

She pulls up her long brick driveway that curves around to the front door and breathes a sigh of relief. Oddly, Ruby's bedroom light is on, out of sorts for her elderly neighbor in bed by 10 every night. Sue Ellen's digital car clock displays 12:02 a.m. Maybe Ruby can't sleep. As jittery as she feels right now, Sue Ellen may have the same problem. She gathers her purse, activates the car alarm and turns to walk to the door when, as if on cue, Ruby appears in her upstairs bedroom window. Sue Ellen stops in her tracks, a little startled, but waves. Ruby shoves the window pane up.

"You just now rollin' in from your fancy dinner, Sue Ellen?"

"Ruby! My goodness what are you doin' up so late? Checkin' to see if I'd break curfew?" Sue Ellen looks at her watch. "It's just now midnight, ma'am. I do believe I've avoided turning into a pumpkin," she says and musters a laugh.

"He put the scare on you good, didn't he honey?" Ruby says. "I can see it all the way to here."

"He? What?" Sue Ellen asks.

"The trouble bearer, the unclean man I seen was comin' for you in my vision. The one I salted you for yesterday. You know who I mean, gal. He got to have you shakin' in your boots to pretend otherwise."

Sue Ellen stares at Ruby. How did she know Sue Ellen was scared? Is she really some kind of intuitive? Ruby sighs impatiently, her long silver hair cascades out the window, shining bright in the moonlight. If ever she looked the part, it was now.

"Well come on up here. I ain't got all night," Ruby says and disappears from the window.

Sue Ellen goes to greet Ruby with a hug when she opens the front door.

"Uh uh. Don't touch me yet, Sue Ellen," Ruby says and backs away. "I don't want your fear suckin' up my energy. And I sure do got some energy right now, girl. Hooo! He's a strong one, this devil nippin' at your heels. But I am up to task, honey, I surely am!" Ruby exclaims and claps her hands together as if delighted.

Ruby nimbly walks to the kitchen as Sue Ellen watches, wide-eyed. She smells bergamot tea brewing as she sits down at the dining room table. Ruby brings the pot, two cups, some lemon slices and a small glass container of dark nibs on a tray to the table. Her blue eyes are clear and pierce Sue Ellen with unabashed certainty. After a few moments of strange silence, Ruby pours Sue Ellen some tea.

"Tell me exactly how it happened. Don't leave nothin' out," Ruby says.

Sue Ellen describes her spontaneous decision to drive home alongside the lake, the sudden police lights, the encounter with the officer and the so called field sobriety test. Ruby does not say a word during Sue Ellen's story. When she finishes, Ruby is breathing slowly and closes her eyes.

"Ruby? Are you alright?"

"Shhh. Hush now," Ruby hisses.

A handful of long minutes pass before Ruby opens her eyes. Her shoulders relax and she takes a drink of tea. "He touch anything of yours? You got anything of his?"

Astounded, Sue Ellen reaches for her clutch. "I think he dropped this in the street. He was wearing them when he stopped me," Sue Ellen says and pulls the black Latex glove from her purse.

"Set it down right there," Ruby says pointing to the center of the mahogany dining table. "Take your hands off the table and scoot your chair a good ways back," she tells Sue Ellen.

Ruby rubs her hands together as if she's grinding kindling to start a fire. She mumbles something and suddenly takes a handful of those dark nibs from the glass jar. She again rubs her palms together, faster and faster. The pungent odor of cloves fills the air and Sue Ellen stifles a cough. Ruby makes a circle around the glove, enclosing it in a brown ring of ground cloves. When the ring is complete, she puts both hands on the table, leans over the glove and with her nose just inches from it, inhales deeply. Ruby holds her breath for an unnaturally long time and finally exhales with a such a wretch that Sue Ellen is startled right out of her chair.

"Ruby! My god are you okay? What in hell are you doing?"

Ruby slumps into her chair. "Take that filthy thing off my table, Sue Ellen. Put it away, if you please." Sue Ellen hesitates a moment before leaning across the table and collecting the glove. She puts it back in her purse.

"Listen here. You got yourself a twofer, honey."

"A twofer?"

"'Fraid so. Two for the price of one. This here man what stopped you this evenin' started out another man's pawn and ended with a taste for wrong doing. He liked what he done. Liked it so much I damn near choked on the stench of his glove. But he's a sloppy one, leavin' it behind like that. Good for you, bad for him but worse for whomever he marches for. It's gonna come to surface, this glove he left behind. And he'll be held to task for it. Yes sir, held like hammer to nail. It might very well be the end of him, in one way or another. But that's not your concern. What you got to do is keep an eye to the left, right, front and back. Can you do that?" Ruby asks.

"Uh, yes?" Sue Ellen says.

"Course not! No you cannot. How many eyes you got, gal? Two. That's how many. How you gonna keep two eyes on four places?"

"Ruby it's late. Please, just say what you mean. I appreciate your concern but - "

"The only way you gonna see all that's comin' at you is to get you some extra eyes, Sue Ellen. You ask somebody for help and you do it soon, hear? And if I was you, which I most thankfully am not, I'd drive that filthy glove right back to where it was you found it before that devil gets spanked for givin' it to you. Else he'll come a callin', I guarantee it and so does Isaiah, 'There is no peace,' says the Lord, 'for the wicked.' 48:22, honey. Now go on home and get on your knees to give thanks the Lord kept you out the dragon's lair tonight. And you getcha them eyes, Sue Ellen. I mean it," Ruby says before giving Sue Ellen that hug and closing the door.

Sue Ellen tries to process Ruby's riddles as she walks to her own door. As usual, she feels both enlightened and foolish after visiting with Ruby. And what's more, why is her neighbor the oracle telling her to ask someone for help when she can apparently see exactly what's coming? One riddle leads to another and Sue Ellen is too tired for any more of that. Of one thing she's certain, she is absolutely not going to drive back to the lake and put the officer's glove where she found it. Instead she's going to go over her Fort Worth rally notes one more time before the event tomorrow and say goodnight to this very eventful and strange day.

In her bedroom, after changing into her nightgown, she empties her evening purse and the glove drops onto her dresser in a crumpled black ball. Sue Ellen slowly leans down and tentatively sniffs it, expecting a horrible stench. It only smells faintly of cloves.

JR's black Mercedes sedan comes to a stop on the Southfork driveway, behind Ann's Range Rover. The house is dark aside from a low glow in Bobby and Ann's bedroom window. JR turns the engine off and sits in silence in his car. He enjoyed dinner with Sue Ellen so much, he didn't want the evening to end. He looks at the empty passenger seat next to him and sighs. How many hundreds of times did he take her for granted when she'd been sitting right there next to him? He wonders what she's doing at this very moment. Is she content at home? Restless? Sitting up thinking about him? Doubtful. JR sighs again. He cracks his window open to hear the crickets' serenade.

"So this is what it's come to? Grateful for the company of insects?" he says and shakes his head.

JR leans back in the driver's seat once more and closes his eyes. He doesn't want to go inside just yet. The big dark house seems like it doesn't want to let him in either; it's already gathered its own and gone to sleep. JR stares at the darkened porch and foyer. Used to be a light left on until the last Ewing came home. Was Southfork trying to tell him something? Maybe he is no longer a Ewing, in the truest sense anyway. JR bangs his hands on the steering wheel. There goes his mind running off with torment again, his warped mind as Sue Ellen said tonight. He wishes she was there to steady him, even with a sarcastic quip. He rubs his face and tries to turn off his contemplations of what it means to be a real Ewing, not wanting to know the answer right now.

But something he cannot deny is news of Sue Ellen's disease. This HIV business crowds his mind like a loud, intolerable intruder. And each time he tries to believe Sue Ellen will be okay the reminder of her illness sounds off like a gong in his head, determined to make him understand that people die from HIV; in the end they get AIDS and die. How is he supposed to fight this opponent? He's defeated everything else that's taken Sue Ellen before, in one way or another - men, career, even booze. But this virus? It's already won and it's sitting there next to him smiling in the empty passenger seat of his car.

JR sits up hastily, closes his window and walks up the drive. He reaches the door and unlocks it's cold handle. Inside the foyer he fumbles for the light switch.

"No consideration, goddammit," he says to the darkness.

Once illuminated, the interior of the house doesn't seem as uninviting. This is still Southfork, this is still his home, isn't it? JR tosses his hat on the dining room table, a habit that used to annoy his mother. Its muffled thud on the polished wood stops him in his tracks. He half expects to hear her say, "JR put that away. This table holds our family meals, not your dirty hat," smile sweetly and pat him on the shoulder. JR stands in the dining room and looks around for reminders of his mother. What would she think of Southfork now? He stares at the modern sofa in the family room, the pastel color palette, the ugly breakfast bar in the kitchen and Ann's kitschy decorations, not a trace of elegance to be seen. God, Miss Ellie would hate it.

"Looks like a goddamn hotel suite," JR says. He walks back to the foyer and stands at the foot of the stairs, the ones his Daddy built with his own hands. JR rubs his hand over his face for a minute. He turns and walks to the dining room again, looking at the table and chairs that once anchored the turbulent Ewings each night for dinner. His gaze stops on the chair at the head of the table and JR feels physical pressure in his chest. He leans on the edge of the table for a moment. Once collected, he walks to that chair and sits in it. He puts his hat back on, leans his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together, resting his chin on them.

He closes his eyes and after a short while says, "Mama, I sure do miss you," and clears his throat before continuing. "I know you're resting with Daddy, but this family still needs you, it surely does. Just look what's happened to Southfork, Mama. It's like a goddamn bed and breakfast in here, looks terrible, doesn't it?" JR musters a tight laugh.

The silence is deafening and it leaves JR no choice but to say what he knows is true, "Mama, I'm sorry about all this. I know I haven't been acting like your oldest son for quite some time and I apologize for it. I just….I don't know what come over me. I'm sorry I hid away in that rest home and let this family go all to hell. Daddy's got to be shakin' his fist at me for that. You please tell him I'm sorry and I'm gonna set things right. I mean it. You'll see."

JR takes a deep breath. "Sue Ellen's sick, Mama. Please, you got to help me here. I don't know what to do for her. And John Ross is runnin' around like it doesn't matter. If you could….if there's a way to….help her. Please. Please help her, Mama. She's all alone now and she's had it with the likes of me. 'Course I don't blame her for that. Not one bit."

JR stays quiet for a minute. He has never felt so alone, sitting in his Daddy's chair talking to his Mama in heaven in the darkness of the Southfork dining room in the middle of the night. "Sue Ellen's comin' for dinner, Mama, every Sunday night starting tomorrow. I bet you'd like that, right? She's gonna help me get this family back together. You tell Daddy not to worry. The Ewings will be back. Just you wait and see. Oh, and Mama? I gave Sue Ellen your pearls. I know you don't mind. You always did love her. Better than seeing them around the neck of that woman Bobby's gone and married, anyhow."

JR opens his eyes and rolls his shoulders. He taps the table and says, "Goodnight, Mama," and blows her a kiss. He walks to the kitchen and writes a note for the housekeeper Carmen saying the family will gather for dinner tonight at 6 pm and to prepare a formal meal. He affixes the note to the refrigerator for all to see. Just as JR's boots finish walking across the tiled kitchen floor and are about to enter the foyer, Bobby creeps back up the stairs with tears in his eyes.