Sam Loomis drummed his fingers nervously on his worn vinyl steering wheel as he drove toward the ramshackle Myers house located in a quiet suburb on the east side of Haddonfield. He knew he was driving too fast, but he couldn't help it; the car seemed to be trying to keep up with the myriad of thoughts that were churning in his brain. On the radio, the golden oldies station was playing "Twist and Shout," and he turned it off with an irritated snap.

Christ, how could he have forgotten about her? He hadn't forgotten exactly, he supposed. He'd just been overconfident that Michael hadn't known about her. Yet somehow he had. All this time, behind those cold black eyes, he had been thinking, waiting. Waiting for the right moment. Tonight it had come. He cursed his own complacency.

Macie. He had only met her once when she was nine years old. A small, fragile little girl with a bright smile. She hadn't known who he was, hadn't understood why he was there. To her, he was just another doctor who wanted to poke and prod her. She suffered him quietly. There wasn't much about her that he remembered. But there were two things he did remember quite clearly. Her eyes had been the same murky black as her brother's. Unsettling specks of coal in a white moon face. Looking at them made the spit in his mouth go sour. Her smile calmed him, though. It gave her pallid face a spark of intelligence and sad beauty.

The other thing he remembered was something she had said to him just before he left that day. He'd knelt down in front of her wheelchair so that his face was at eye level. Patting her bony shoulder, he'd said, "Remember now, Macie, Michael ever tries to contact you, you mustn't answer him. He's very dangerous. Understand?"

She'd nodded at him, and he'd turned to go. But then she'd said something, something that had made him freeze in his tracks. Her voice was so soft and low, that at first he was sure he'd even heard it, but he had.

"Michael won't hurt me because we're both different. I'm broken, too. I'm not afraid."

He'd slowly turned to stare at her. Her eyes met his with calm assurance, smiling innocently up at him. A cold fear suddenly crushed his spine. He turned and fled. He never went back. Now those words echoed in his ears. I'm broken, too. I'm not afraid.

God help him, he was terrified. He'd be afraid for both of them.