"I'm not sure I should go."

"Oh, come on, Lynn! It's a Friday evening, you've been wanting to see this picture ever since it came out, and even before that. And if there's one thing I know something about, it's the motion picture business. You can't possibly miss this picture!"

Lynn turned around in front of the full-length mirror to look straight at the older woman rather than speaking to her reflection. "But remember what happened the last time I left you on your own in the evening?"

Blanche shook her head wearily. "I won't fall out of my chair again. I promise."

"But it doesn't feel right to leave you alone like this," Lynn tried to reason with her, never-mind that at the moment she wanted nothing more than to see the new Angela Lansbury picture at the local movie theatre.

"You really should get out more, Lynn," Blanche didn't back down. "That's something your mother and I agree on. Although I don't think she found me very competent."

"Oh, no, Miss Blanche!" Lynn replied with passion. "She absolutely adored you; she told me so herself right before they took off in the taxi. She's just not that good with meeting new people. I think that's a family trait. Besides I think she was too much in awe to try very hard. I do hope you don't dislike her for it?"

"Of course not, dear," Blanche assured her. "I think she's a very fine woman and I wouldn't mind having her around again sometimes."

Lynn's face broke into a wide smile. "Oh, Miss Blanche, do you really mean it?" she asked, flying forward and towards the sitting woman.

"Of course I do," Blanche replied airily. "Now, get going or you won't be there before the final credits."

Lynn sent her another brilliant smile before she vanished out the door.

Blanche had been positive nothing nearly as unpleasant could happen to her again now that Lynn was out again. But she had a sinking feeling of uneasiness in her stomach once she heard the knocking on the front door. Blanche turned to head through the living room and into the hall, wondering who'd be calling on her at this late hour. She spared the kitchen window a brief look; it was already dark outside. Lynn would not knock; she had her own key and she also knew there was a doorbell left to the door.

Blanche pulled her chair to a stop by the door and listened. The impatient knocking sounded again, startling Blanche and making her jump slightly.

"Who's there?" she asked loudly, but there was no answer. In a moment, there was the knocking again.

Blanche didn't quite know what possessed her to reach over and turn the key in the keyhole. She wasn't frightened exactly, and the person behind the door could have had an emergency for all she knew. But naturally, that was not the case as just as the door became unlocked, it was flung open and a young man stepped into the hall.

He was of medium height, but in her current position Blanche felt quite small compared to him. His young face was not exactly unpleasant to look at, but at the moment it was held in a rather unappealing frown.

As the stranger leaned closer slightly, Blanche sunk back in her chair, a sudden unwelcome feeling of dread overtaking her. "You're Blanche Hudson?" he asked plainly, squinting his eyes.

It took Blanche a long moment to find her voice, but when she eventually did, she found enough courage in herself to ask, "Who wants to know?"

The stranger bent down suddenly, slamming his hands down on the armrests of Blanche's wheel chair. The actress jumped, watching the man now with sheer fear in her wide eyes. But oddly enough, the man's expression had changed. In his eyes Blanche could detect the slightest hint of mirth.

"I do," he breathed with a broad grin. "So are you?"

If possible, Blanche was even more frightened by his self-confident manner. Silently she nodded her head, keeping her eyes fixed on the man's face.

"Good," the stranger said, remaining in his menacing position for a moment longer and finally moving away from Blanche as he turned to gaze into the living room and the kitchen beyond.

As he stood there and studied the sight of the clean and lit room, Blanche collected herself and steered a little farther from the man. She couldn't quite put her finger on what was so unsettling about this man other than that he'd barged into her house without an invitation and that he knew her name.

Blanche took a shaky breath, and trying to conceal her trepidation, asked hesitantly, "What do you want?"

The man didn't turn to look back at Blanche, rather keeping his eyes roaming the room. "I wanted to see how my sister was doing."

Blanche's thoughts immediately turned to Lynn and her family's visit two days earlier; and she was positive this man had not come with them.

"This is a beautiful home, just like my mommy said." The stranger turned to look at Blanche over his shoulder. "She was here the day before yesterday with Suzy and Tommy. They didn't take me. I was good and stayed home like I was told."

There was something about the way he talked that reminded Blanche of Jane, and it was a part of her she didn't feel any affection for. The way he said, "I was good," took Blanche back to when Jane had said she'd only wanted everything to be nice. Blanche shuddered at the thought.

She realized soon that as silence had settled upon them, the man had turned to look at her pointedly. His face now held a thoughtful expression, and Blanche wondered if it would hurt to ask him—very politely—to be on his way. And as if he'd heard her thoughts, the stranger averted his piercing gaze and stepped back outside, leaving the door open as he made his way across the street to a large black Packard.

Blanche let out a heartfelt sigh she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Despite that the man hadn't actually done anything to physically threaten her, Blanche felt completely shaken by the encounter. After listening tensely to the receding car sounds, she sprung forward and slammed the door shut.