Then he saw his own service revolver in her trembling hand.
"Look, honey—it's me."
She shook her head. "No, it's not you. It's a man that wants to kill a little girl. Stay back."
"You'd shoot, wouldn't you?" he asked softly.
"Try to come in and find out," she invited.
"Let me have Peony."
She laughed, her eyes bright with hate. "I wonder where Terry went. I guess he died. Or adapted. I guess I'm a widow now. Stay back, Mister, or I'll kill you."
Norris smiled. "Okay, I'll stay back. But the gun isn't loaded."
She tried to slam the door; he caught it with his foot. She struck at him with the pistol, but he dragged it out of her hand. He pushed her aside and held her against the wall while she clawed at his arm.