He chuckled as if in disbelief, “Well, I’m not sure now. I thought you’d be happy to see me.” A conceited expectation but he was being honest. “Not seeming like you wanted to attack me or run.”

“I am not going to hurt you, Joan.” His arms opened wide, smiling as he always did. “I didn’t fake my own death and escape to come kill you.” He rolled his eyes at the thought; she wasn’t that special. “And if I were to hurt you, I wouldn’t have given you so much time to react. I’ve done it over 23 times, you don’t think I perfected what I do? Come on, Joan, a little credit. I’m starting to feel a bit offended.”