A slight shiver passed through Maya's body as she heard this. She'd heard this kind of language before.

"No....no," she thought, "that can't be what he means..."

"There's a few basic ways of dealing with targets," Dominic continued. "You can turn them...you can capture them...or you can kill them."

The words fell on Maya's ears, but she couldn't hear them at first. She didn't want to. "Wh-what did you say?" she mumbled, rubbing her temple as she spoke. "I don't understand."

Deep down, she was already screaming and crying, and the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach left her feeling as though she could barely stand.

But another part of herself was dazed and confused, as though she'd awoken from a deep sleep. She wasn't going to do this again. She couldn't.

"Maya, you wanted an explanation, and I gave you one. What else do you want me to say?"

"'What else do you want me to say?'" The words echoed in her mind. His tone...something about it sparked a flash of anger -- a flash strong enough to force her back into the moment.

"Oh, I see. You're finished? You think you're finished now? No. No -- you're not. You haven't explained anything to me. I don't know...who you really are. I don't know...how you can come home at night and kiss me, and ask me how my day was, and pretend that everything's okay when you just got through slitting someone's throat!

"And," she choked out, torn between rage, panic, and fighting back tears, "God knows...I don't know how you can just sit here, look me in the eye, and act like everything's normal and like I shouldn't have anymore questions, when the man I sleep next to every night just told me he's a serial killer!"

For a moment, Dominic was too stunned to say anything. "What...did you just call me?"