Tonight, however, the open window also served to allow her to overhear Richard's apology, which she found totally unnecessary. 'Ungrateful wretch,' she muttered to herself. She returned her attention to the well-worn Bible which she read every night before going to sleep. This evening she turned to Genesis 1:28:

Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.

'Well,' she mused, 'if that isn't a sign I don't know what is!' She interpreted the passage to refer to Thorn Industries, that the company was destined for far greater things than anyone imagined, and she was more determined than ever that her shares should not fall into the hands of that evil little Damien. She decided to change her will as soon as she returned home the next day. She would give the shares to some well-intentioned religious group. That would show them all!

So absorbed was she in her fantasy of revenge that she failed to notice the enormous black raven that had settled lightly on her windowsill, regarding her solemnly with malevolent eyes...

***

Richard was reading in bed. He wore an old-fashioned pair of glasses and was surrounded by mounds of company reports. He often used the late-night hours to try to keep abreast of things. Even so, he never seemed to be able to catch up on everything that was going on at Thorn Industries. There was so much to keep track of, and things were constantly changing.

But tonight he found he was having trouble concentrating. Aunt Marion's tactless reference to his brother's death had upset him. A whole rush of memories had been resurrected and were swirling about in his mind, memories that were better left buried. Who knew what his brother might have become? Perhaps even President. But to have been shot down in the prime of his life like some mad dog...

'Richard!' Ann, sitting at her dressing table, stopped in mid-stroke of brushing her hair. She had obviously been trying to get his attention for some time. He pushed his glasses up onto his forehead and looked over at her.

'I asked you to promise me,' she said.

'Promise you what, honey?'

Ann sighed. It was clear he hadn't heard a word she had said. ‘That we'll never have Aunt Marion here again. Ever.'

'Oh, Ann-'

'Promise me!'

'The woman's eighty-four years old, for Chrissake!'

'I don't care. I don't like having her around. She's evil and she's dangerous and-‘

'She's senile, Ann.'

'She pollutes the air with her senility, then. She upsets me, and she frightens the boys-'

'Nonsense. They think she's funny.'

'No. They make fun of her, but they can't stand to be in the same room with her. Especially Damien.'