. . . She'd never really told him the full story, had she? She hadn't wanted to worry him. He's seven, and he gets into enough anxiety-provoking situations as it is.

But it seems as though she ought to tell him now -- needs to, for any of this to make sense.

"I remember her now from that night," she says softly. "I didn't before. She was doing something different with her voice, and I never saw her face. But when she helped me in the forest . . . it was like that time."

A breath. "I did more than stow away in Jodie-sensei's car that night and call the police. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but you'd been through so much that night already that I didn't want to add any more. When I got out of Jodie-sensei's trunk, I saw her -- Sharon-san, though I only saw the back of her -- about to shoot Ai-chan. I . . . ran in between them and tackled Ai-chan before she could."

"The thing that I realized afterwards, though . . . Sharon-san could have shot me. She commanded me in Japanese. She fired into the pavement around me. She yelled at me in English -- move it, Angel, and she sounded . . . desperate. Angry. Almost . . . frightened. But she didn't shoot me."

Her eyes flick back towards him. "That night didn't make any sense. Why she didn't kill me when she was clearly determined to kill Ai-chan. But what she said in the forest . . . she knows me. She could have killed me then, too -- or at the very least, not done anything at all and let the robot get me. But she yelled then, too, and fired on it. Then wrapped my leg and brought me here."

"I wasn't able to get a lot of answers, but she knows me. And when we met, I did something that impressed her. But I don't remember her at all . . ."