Everything was dark, a fathomless black that surrounded her with its inky embrace. Narcissa breathed in.
It was a heavy inhale and with it she could taste a panoply of rich scents from the musky dark earth that she suddenly felt at her feet to the poignantly sweet flowers whose gentle heads bobbed in the wind as it brushed against her arms. The warm sunlight lanced across her closed eye lids, turning her inner world the color of orange-burgundy. She stuck her tongue out to catch the rays of sunlight on the tip of it as she used to do as a little girl.
Narcissa knew exactly where she was. From the melodious warble of the birds in the trees to the subtle rustling of the wind through the tall grasses, Narcissa would have recognized the clearing with her eyes closed. It had been so long since she had been to this sacred place and for a moment she was afraid to open her eyes. What if it wasn’t as she had remembered it? What if her life had tainted what was once beautiful, making it a marred vision through the filter of her jaded eyes?
“Narcissa.”
Narcissa jolted as the sound of a deep baritone sounded behind her. The sudden startling feeling was soon gone and she was surprised that she would feel so comfortable with that voice.
Narcissa opened her eyes.
Ahead of her a pastel palette of colors from thousands of flowers stretched out in every direction until the colors melded into the dark green tree line that surrounded the clearing. Narcissa slowly scanned the wide space, taking in the orchestra of daffodils, pansies, morning glories and every flower imaginable. The sunlight streamed down like golden white rivers, creating alternating areas of light and shade. Narcissa felt the sigh of a breeze graze her cheek and she could feel her lips tug up into a smile. It had been so long since she had smiled out of pure joy.
Narcissa turned at the call of her name and saw a man standing behind her. A strange tremor passed through her and a sudden chill filled every part of her, but the foreign feeling was soon gone. It was odd. She had never seen the strange man in her life and in most situations, meeting a stranger in a secluded place without any form of protection was not something she liked to have happen to her. And yet there was something calming about this newcomer, which made this encounter even stranger.
The man was tall and thin and he wore an elegant, albeit slightly antiquated gentleman’s suit with a black vest and pants and an emerald green long coat. A golden wristwatch chain glittered in the morning light until it disappeared into one of his pockets. The man walked with a cane made of ivory with a wolf’s head carved on the top of it.
He stood stoic and calm behind her, not close enough to be threatening, but close enough for her to see all the small details about him. He waited patiently as she analyzed whether he was a threat or not.
Narcissa’s eyes finally met his and she was immediately struck by the depth and age that those cobalt eyes conveyed to her. She suddenly knew that he had seen thousands of things that she could never conceive of and in that knowledge there was power, but she was still not afraid of him. Despite this feeling of the extraordinary, there was something kind within those deep blues and something familiar. His eyes were the color of her father’s, but his look was so unlike her father’s penetrating gaze. She had never dared look Cygnus Black in the eyes for long periods of time when she was a little girl.
Narcissa plucked up the courage and asked, “Who are you and why are you here?”
It was at that moment that Narcissa realized two things: one was that she had somehow lost her wand which was extremely foolish and completely unlike her and two was that, as far as she could see, she was the only one in the clearing with this man, which meant that she had no friends to protect her if he should prove to be a threat. The man waited as the realization hit her, but he didn’t grin in triumph or smirk at her foolishness when it did. Instead, he remained silent and still in the same place he was in.
“There’s no need to worry, Narcissa. I’m not here to harm you,” he answered. Narcissa stiffened by the mention of her name and by the fact that this stranger had known exactly what she was thinking. Before she could say a word, he continued on, “As for my name, I have many, but for now that is not important.”
Narcissa sensed the evasion in his words and she could feel her irritation prickle. That was one attribute that she never liked in a person. Steeling herself, she asked again why he was there.
For the first time, the older man smiled and years seem to shed off his face. Narcissa could swear that, under the shifting shadows and light in the meadow, his face grew more youthful, but she knew that to be impossible. The man-without-a-name strode over to her, his cane smashing the delicate flowers under it.
“The question you should be asking is not why am I here, but what are you doing here? Do you remember how you got here?” The man stopped a few feet away from her and leaned on his cane, his blue eyes sparkling like diamonds.
“This is the meadow where my father used to take my sisters and I when we were younger. I…I’m here…I got here…”
She couldn’t remember. She had no idea how she had gotten there or why. It had been years since she had even thought of this place and years more since she had actually come here. Now looking around her, everything seemed so perfect, so beautiful as it used to be so many years before when she was a little girl, but it was empty. Something was missing.
“Maybe, my dear, you are here to remember,” he answered.
“What? I don’t know what it is I am supposed to rem--”
At that moment, the sound of children’s laughter tinkled through the air around her like sacred bells. Narcissa spun around, her eyes searching for the source of the laughter.
To the left of her she saw three small girls running through the tall grasses, their bright little heads bouncing as they went. Their laughter metamorphosed into a butterfly of inexplicable beauty; the very sound of it kindled a fondness in her heart. Narcissa started to walk towards them, drawn like a moth to a flame. She completely forgot about the man-without-a-name. The closer she got to them, the farther they seemed to get from her. Narcissa began to run.
Before she had even realized it, she was almost across the clearing. It was bigger than she had remembered. Narcissa stopped to catch her breath, a sharp stitch working in her side. Ahead of her she could hear the laughter beckoning to her. As she listened to it, regaining her breath, she heard the sound of a trickling stream nearby where the source of the laughter seemed to come from; the children had come to a stop. Narcissa came across a downward slope and tentatively started down it. Ahead of her was a clump of low hanging willows that she had not seen earlier, which was strange. As she approached the trees, the glint of a small stream sparkled through the leaves and branches.
Narcissa pushed aside the feathery veils of leaves, her heart racing in her chest. She could hear the laughter of the children. It was carefree and filled with a purity that she had not heard of in a long time.
Finally passing through the tree line, she caught her first glimpse of the three girls and her breath caught in her throat. This could not be real. She must be hallucinating because in front of her was her six-year-old self with her two sisters. Narcissa nearly cried out in happiness, but she quickly stifled that urge, not wanting to disturb the girls in their play.
She remembered this day. It was one of the happiest moments of her childhood. Her father, in a rare show of affection for his family, brought his three daughters to this clearing. It was family owned property and her parents had needed a place to get away. Narcissa and her two sisters had been left to explore the meadow on their own. Together they ran, careless of the muck that covered their robes. Bellatrix, being the oldest, lead Andromeda and Narcissa to the river. They played wizards and Muggles. Narcissa, being the youngest, always got stuck with being the Muggle who had to run around with her eyes blindfolded chasing her sisters.
“Bella, Andromeda! It’s not fair! I’m sick of being the Muggle!” Narcissa cried out as she stumbled about blindly, her blond locks hanging limp around her cherubic face.
Bellatrix, who stood just before her sister, smiled widely. Her eyes sparkled in the afternoon light and she jumped from foot to foot, never liking to be still for even a moment. Andromeda snuck up to Bellatrix’s side, her pale cheeks a deep red and her deep brown hair glowing under the sunlight. She nudged Bellatrix knowingly and then turned to Narcissa, who was groping aimlessly to the left of them.
“Come on, Cissy. We’re closer than you think. Come get us!” Andromeda said playfully, trying her best to hide a nervous giggle as Narcissa’s hands came closer and closer. Andromeda could stifle the giggle no more, which attracted Narcissa’s attention. Andromeda jumped away, using Bellatrix as a partial shield. Bellatrix jumped out of the way of her sister as well and once more Narcissa wandered aimlessly as her two older sisters nudged each other playfully as they used to do all the time.
The older Narcissa crept closer to the three girls, her hand hovering close to her mouth as she whispered aloud, “Oh, I forgot--”
“Forgot what?” called out the familiar deep baritone from behind.
Narcissa jumped as she had completely forgot about the man-without-a-name. She quickly spun to shush him, not wanting this unexpected moment of happiness to end. The man stood a few feet away, leaning on his cane. His face had a mercurial look on it and she couldn’t tell what mood he was in.
“I…forgot…well I forgot…that…” Narcissa started hesitantly. She quickly turned from the man and his unreadable face, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she did so. She didn’t know why, but a pervading sense of guilt trickled into her.
When she turned back to the river, the three girls were gone as was the river. All that stretched before her was the rippling land of a green downward slope that ended in a shallow valley. Floating in mid-air in the center of the small valley was an aged window. Narcissa was suddenly at a loss for words on what to say to this new development. She sensed more than heard the stranger as he drew closer to her.
“What is it you forgot?” The man asked solemnly.
“Innocence,” Narcissa answered. “I forgot that I was once innocent and that at one time my sisters and I loved each other. I forgot the way Bellatrix used to smile when she was truly happy and the laughter of Andromeda. It’s now all gone. Bellatrix is dead and Andromeda wants nothing to do with me.”
“But isn’t that the choice you made?” he asked.
Narcissa spun around suddenly as she snapped, “What do you mean by that?”
The man said nothing. All he did was point at the window that floated behind her, that unreadable look once more in his face.
Narcissa slowly turned towards the paint flaked window frame that waited patiently for her in the valley. She felt her feet move towards the strange oddity despite the reservations she had in her head. Narcissa turned back to see the man with the cane in exactly the same spot she had left him, his face imbued with that very strange look of dubious emotions. She wasn’t sure if there was pity there or delight, reproach or understanding and it unnerved her. This man was unnatural, so much so that it was making the hairs on her arm stand on end.
And yet she continued forward, almost as if she were compelled to see what was through that window that shouldn’t exist in the air as it did. From afar, it looked like a normal window, whose reflective surfaces showed the mild flower fields behind it, but she knew it was so much more.
As she drew closer, the images of the flower field changed and fretful shadows danced, just out of her view to see. When she was a foot away, the shadows turned clear and she was looking into a dark and richly furnished room. She knew the place, would have recognized it with the rich mahogany walls and the thick, deep blue rugs. It was the dining room of her childhood home, the one place that she or her sisters were never allowed to enter except on special occasions. Standing in the middle of the starkly pristine room was her sister Andromeda.
Narcissa felt icicles run down her spine as the ghost of a memory slithered back to her over the years. She watched as the memory began to unfold in front of her eyes. Narcissa wanted to look away, but found that she couldn’t as if window pulled her in. Narcissa stood helplessly and watched.
“I will not marry Rabastan Lestrange!” Andromeda stated boldly.
Andromeda stood alone in front of her family. Her face was stoic and unreadable as she looked her father squarely in the eye. The young Narcissa stood stiff and silent next to her sister Bellatrix, her eyes looking at everything but Andromeda.
“You will marry him! You will do your duty as a pureblood, as a Black and as my daughter!” Narcissa’s father roared, his face mottled in his growing anger. Normally their father was not the one to yell. He did not have the temperamental fire that their mother had. If he could be compared to anything, it was ice. He was silent and cold in his attitude towards his daughters.
This sort of silent disapproval that so often turned into disappointment terrified Narcissa more than any kind of anger her mother could show. To hear her father raise his voice higher than the normal decibel it was usually in, had set Narcissa on edge. She didn’t know how her sister could remain as calm as she was. Narcissa knew that Andromeda hated Rabastan and would never marry him as her father had planned out, but she had never guessed it would come to this. Looking back, the older Narcissa should have seen this coming.
Andromeda’s body stiffened as she stared her father down, a steel in her that no one had ever expected to see, especially not their father.
“I will not marry Rabastan, sir!"
Andromeda’s words came out like a low growl. The young Narcissa clenched the sides of her robe hard. Her heart thudded in her chest, flooding her ears with the roar of it. Never had she seen her sister like this. Apart of her had been appalled by Andromeda’s stubborn disregard for their heritage and another part of her, albeit smaller, had been strangely thrilled by it. Never before had Narcissa considered rebellion as an option. To see it now out in the open had made her blood rush through her veins a little faster.
Narcissa shifted her eyes to her parents. Her mother was pacing, her anger burning just below the surface. Narcissa was surprised that her mother had not said anything yet. She had never been shy about being vocal in such matters, but her words seemed to disappear into stunted curses that barely made their way from her mother’s mouth coherently.
“Sir?" Cygnus Black intoned quietly, his dark eyes bright with rage. Instead of warming into a frenzy as their mother would have, Cygnus’ attitude grew colder and colder. Narcissa could feel the tension growing in the air like some terrible black thunderhead about to break open and sear the world below. Her arms began to shake and she pressed them tightly to her side.
“Since when has obstinacy and disrespect ever been acceptable in my household?” Every word of his was punctuated with a lethal amount of venom. “You will do what is expected of you Andromeda, like your sister Bellatrix did. She has proper pride and I will have no daughter of mine bringing shame on our family name!”
Cygnus strode over to Andromeda his eyes fixed on his daughter. Narcissa could see her sister’s resolve begin to crumble. She could see the tremor of terror, but Andromeda did not move. Despite the very real terror Narcissa could see in her sister, Andromeda stood her ground. She turned her eyes to Narcissa, beseechingly her understanding. Narcissa shifted her eyes away from her sister and remained silent.
Bellatrix, on the other hand, did nothing of that sort. She strode forward, an ugly sneer curling up her lips. Narcissa could see that her older sister was working herself into a frenzy and she knew Bellatrix would show Andromeda no mercy. Narcissa remained silent.
“Of, course my dear sister will not marry Rabastan, father!” Bellatrix spat out, much to the surprise of everyone in the room. Cygnus Black spun around in disbelief to his oldest daughter. All eyes were now on Bellatrix and she savored the silence that followed.
“Don’t you know, father? Don’t you know that Andromeda is secretly engaged to a Muggle-born?”
The shock of her parents had been complete. Never had Narcissa seen her mother more enraged, but what was worse was the anger and disappointment she saw in her father’s eyes. Her father’s lips grew thin and his cheeks shivered in rage. As their mother roared at Andromeda, their father’s shaking intensified and his face grew paler and paler.
“You are no daughter of mine,” Cygnus spat out coldly. “You have one minute to get out of this house or I will curse you out the door!”
He then turned his back on Andromeda as did their mother and stormed away. Bellatrix sneered and spit at Andromeda’s feet before she turned and strode off without one backwards glance towards the sister she had just abandoned.
Only Narcissa was left. And she couldn’t bear the thought of looking at her sister in the eyes. The young Narcissa studied the rug at her feet, her eyes boring through the many threads. She could feel her parents and her sister’s staring at her, waiting and judging.
Andromeda said nothing. Her face showed no emotions except inevitability; she knew as well as any of the Black sisters that breaking away from their pureblood traditions was the fastest way to being cut off. When Narcissa finally looked up, she saw a small hope in her sister’s eyes that Narcissa would surely not turn her back on her. Over the last few years, Andromeda and Narcissa had been growing closer to each other, but all of that wouldn‘t matter now.
Narcissa looked away as she turned from Andromeda. As the older Narcissa watched, a part of her wanted to scream out. A part of her wanted her younger self to stay.
The older Narcissa watched as the memory dissolved into nothing, leaving only the flower field beyond the window pane.
“No…no. I don’t want to see this,” she whispered as she turned away from the window. Standing to the side of her was the man-without-a-name, his face as impassive and unreadable as ever.
“You turn away just as you did so many years ago. You don‘t want to see or face the past, but the past can never be forgotten. The past will always come back to you, no matter how hard you push it away.”
Narcissa felt a rage growing in her. How dare he judge her for her life when he had never lived it. He had no idea of the amount of pressure she had lived with when she was younger. What other choice could she have made, but turning away from Andromeda? Andromeda made her choice and married without any consideration for her family or her duty. Why did she have the freedom to do that when Narcissa had to marry a husband chosen for her?
“Why are you doing this? Why am I here with you seeing memories of my past?“ Narcissa asked. “You condemn me for my choices and actions and yet you have no right to do so. You don’t know the responsibility my sisters had to our family nor the pressure. Don’t judge what you don’t understand!”
Narcissa’s stance was fierce, her eyes ablaze. Most would be terrified of her in such a state, but the man with the cane only smiled mildly at her, completely unperturbed. This unnerved her, though none of it showed on her face.
“Condemn?” asked the man quizzically. He moved closer and Narcissa was sure his hair was lighter than it was before. “I am not here to condemn or judge.”
“Then why am I here? Why did you bring me to this place and show me that memory, a memory I would rather not remember? That is why I am supposed to be here right? To remember? Andromeda made her choice and as did I. I chose to honor my family duty when I married Lucius and she turned her back on us. Do I regret it? Sometimes. Do I miss her? Yes. Would I do it again? Absolutely!”
“You are under the misguided notion that I purposely chose this place and that memory for you,” the man responded, shifting his cane from hand to hand. “I am just a guide if you will. Nothing more. It is you who chose to see what you see, remember what you remember.”
“That makes no sense. You brought me here and now you’re trying to twist everything around to hide what you have done!”
The stranger stood silent for a moment. He didn’t move one muscle and a strange mixture of emotions passed across his face like a clouds over the sun. As Narcissa waited, she began to notice his hair growing longer and lighter.
How is that possible? she wondered.
Finally the man looked Narcissa squarely in the eye and she found it hard to look away. There was something that drew her in, some fascination and terror that held her in place. And he was becoming more and more recognizable. Unsure what to expect from him next, Narcissa felt her body stiffen as she prepared herself for anything.
“Do you love your husband?” the man asked nonchalantly.
Narcissa was perplexed by the question, mostly because she didn’t see it coming. Why did it matter, but she knew that somehow it did have some relevance that she wasn’t seeing yet. Narcissa turned away from the man without a name, the man who was changing before her very eyes.
“Well…why…I don’t see what this has to do with anything?”
The man strolled over to her with such confidence that it greatly reminded her of her husband. Narcissa knew there was something she had to remember, but she couldn’t quite figure it out.
“I’m trying to understand you. You said that you chose to honor your duty, while your sister chose to marry someone she loved. You followed the orders given to you even though it drove you from your own sister, a sister that you had once loved. You didn’t stand up for her when you could have and yet I suspect that you wanted to. It’s simple. Do you love the man you married, considering the cost?”
Narcissa was taken aback by the question. No one had asked her if she loved Lucius because no one really cared. Everyone knew that they were an arranged marriage and that they were doing what was right for their pureblood traditions. Love rarely ever factored into that sort of situation. Bellatrix was a great example of this. Her marriage with Rodolphus was a sham, but Andromeda had married for love and she had been happy, despite the loss of her family and inheritance. Narcissa did not want Bellatrix’s fate, but knew that she would never be brave enough to defy her family and marry for love. For she was terrified of poverty and shame. It had been instilled in her since she was a little girl that those were the consequences of any dereliction of her duty and she saw the marriage to Lucius as the only way she could escape that horror. But the question still remained: did she love her husband?
“Yes,” Narcissa started hesitantly. The man-without-a-name caught the hesitation and she knew that he knew that there was more to this affirmation.
“But…” he prodded.
Narcissa walked down the hill away from him. It was difficult to look him in the eye, especially since it had been Lucius she was thinking of now. In fact, she yearned for him. In some ways he had been the only person who had truly understood her. This longing was beginning to wear her down. Narcissa sunk to the ground, sitting amongst a patch of daisies.
“There is no but,” she finally answered. “I love him. It may not have started that way and there were times when our marriage seemed like nothing more than a cloud of ash, but in the end, we were meant for each other because we understood each other.”
The man came next to Narcissa and sat at her side. She was surprised that she allowed him to do so and even more surprised by the lack of animosity that she felt towards him. She felt warm near him and safe as she had always felt around Lucius.
“You understand each other? What do you mean by that?” he asked.
Narcissa felt herself relax even more.
“Because he understood what must be done in order to keep his family safe and he did it. He knew when to bow to a stronger power just as I did. We both followed Voldemort because we had very little choice otherwise. We were pureblood and believed in his cause, but believing in something and acting for it are two very different things. When Voldemort fell, Lucius had to cater to the victorious side in order to keep our young family together. He did everything he had to protect our family and I loved him for it.”
“So you love him because he didn’t commit to a cause or a side? Is this some reflection of yourself and your values?”
Narcissa jumped up, a snarl curling her lips and her eyes as sharp as lances.
“What are you saying about my husband? About me?”
“I am merely trying to draw up my conclusions about who you really are. You say that you didn’t marry for love, but duty. You say that your husband sided with the Dark Lord, but when that Dark Lord fell, did not stay at his side. You have told me that you do not value honor, consistency or loyalty. Is that correct?”
“I value my family as did my husband. We did what was necessary to keep us out of harm’s way!” Narcissa fumed, her rage growing in her. The man remained calm as if this exhibition of emotion was a fascinating study for him. He slowly rose to his feet, his cane helping him get there.
“I believe we are getting to the crux of your question, my dear,” he responded.
“What question?” Narcissa roared.
“Why your first question? Or the first question you really wanted an answer to.” Narcissa stared at the man, who was rapidly changing out of what had reminded her of Lucius. His blond hair turned a stone gray as did his eyes. His face was long and old, but his eyes were as clever as they ever were.
When she did not respond, he answered for her, “You wanted to know why you were here, is that correct?”
“Yes! Why did you bring me here? What is your purpose?” Narcissa demanded as she paced back and forth. Her feelings were on a roller coaster, rising and falling rapidly. Just moments before she had been at peace and now she was in an uproar.
The old gentleman hobbled closer to her, his body bent with age and his form cloaked in black. Narcissa was puzzled on how he had changed so quickly, but she quickly swatted such a trivial thought away.
“My purpose? I have already told you my purpose. I am here to guide you. I did not bring you here nor show you what you saw. You did that all on your own as well as bringing me to this place.”
“That’s impossible. How can I do something and not remember? No more of your trickery! I want answers!” Narcissa shouted as she lifted her hand as if she had a wand, but she soon realized that there was nothing in her hand. Narcissa quickly dropped her arm.
“From what little you have told me about yourself, you have lived a life that vacillated between what was right and what was easy. Most times you chose the easy route, even at the cost of hurting others. You lost your sister Andromeda and was not moved to interfere with the downfall of your other sister. You chose the side that best suited your needs and that of your family.” Narcissa felt the warm breeze turn bitter and cold. The sky darkened above, filling with a black heaviness. All around her the field of beautiful flowers wilted at her feet, spreading out from where she stood as if she were a disease. Narcissa felt her terror growing inside her as she began to shake and still the old man in black continued on.
“You have lived a selfish existence, too afraid to step out of the shell that was placed around you by your domineering parents. You knew what it was your husband was up to and even if he didn’t participate in the worst of atrocities, he participated in enough of them and you stood by and let it happen. You may not have had a hand in any of it, but many have suffered because of your indifference!”
The storm clouds above her broke apart pelting down hard rain. The land around her was lit up by the lightening strikes, revealing a desolate baroness. Nothing living remained and only the dry and Narcissa couldn‘t take it any longer.
“Stop it! Make it stop!”
The rain continued on, coming down harder and faster than ever before. It soaked her through, setting a chill into her bones. Water streamed down her face, stinging her eyes as it went.
The old man’s eyes were bright and Narcissa could clearly see their unnatural luminosity in the growing darkness.
“I have no control over this. You are making this happen. If only you could remember how you got here. If only you could forgive yourself for the past!” He screamed out to her as the rumble of thunder above shook the heavens.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t remember how I got here!”
“You do. Remember Draco. Remember your son! He was the only person you ever truly loved!” The man responded calmly.
And suddenly, Narcissa did remember her son. How could she ever forget him? The old man was right. Draco had been the only one she had truly and unselfishly loved. From the moment she had held him in her arms, she had known that she would give the world to him and more. She loved every step he took, and she had been there for every stumble. When someone threatened him, she had become ferocious and when he smiled, her heart would burst with joy. He had become her world.
Without realizing it, the storm around her had slowly dissipated into a light shower and then into nothing at all. The sun started to peep through the iron gray clouds, revealing to her the perfect flower fields as if they had never been gone, but everything had changed because Narcissa suddenly did remember.
It had hit her like an anvil while she was thinking of her son. She was remembering the last time she had seen him. He was older, a grown man, but his eyes were sad. More than that, they were heartbroken. He was standing by her bed, holding her hand. Narcissa remembered there had been tears running down his face and she had wiped them away with one frail hand. He had gently brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.
She remembered she couldn’t say much. She had had a incurable disease and the pain had caused a stroke that had paralyzed a part of her body, but she could still touch her son and sooth away his pain. She wondered where Lucius was, but then realized that he had already passed on before her.
Narcissa Malfoy was glad that she had died with her son by her side.
“I’m dead and this place… this place is…” Narcissa started, but found it difficult to complete.
“This place is your way station. You had found peace here in life and you came here again in death, but you could not let certain things from your past go. Now it is time for you to move on. Take my hand.”
The old man held out his hand. His face was youthful again, his hair the same color as her Draco’s. Narcissa was suddenly both terrified and at peace. She didn’t really know what to expect. Narcissa hesitantly stepped forward and placed her hand in the old man’s.
After looking about her at the field of wild flowers from her youth, Narcissa turned and calmly said, “I’m ready.”