---- bowl. Mrs. Black gently patted her arm. "Don't be scared, my daughter. Nonsense, all of it." Jane smiled weakly. Mrs. Black and Mr. Black kept putting food in her bowl, talking fondly of her childhood, reminiscing about how much they had spoiled her. Jane looked up, misty-eyed. "Mom, Dad... you've always treated me so well." Mrs. Black's smile twisted. Her hand moved to Jane's cheek-and suddenly squeezed. Hard. Jane gasped in pain. Mrs. Black's expression cracked into something between laughter and sobbing. "Yes. We treated you better than anyone. Even better ---- than our real daughter." "So why? Why weren't you satisfied? Why did you have to kill her?" "Do you really think I'll let you live after that?" Jane shrieked, trying to pull away-but Mr. Black grabbed her, pinning her to the table. "Nol!" she cried. "Dad, no-please-" His eyes were cold. Unyielding. "She left us nothing. Gary is gone. You'll go next." He picked up the bowl of soup and forced it down her throat. Jane choked, gagging. Tears streamed down her face. Upstairs, soft footsteps echoed on the stairs. Mrs. Black looked up. Jack stood at the landing. She smiled sweetly and held out her arms. ---- "Come down, sweetheart. Grandma made pigeon soup -your favorite." In the quiet room, a speaker clicked on. Alow, sorrowful voice filled the air. "We are all sinners. Each of us bears a different sin..." "And I decide who deserves peace... And who must sleep forever."