New York skyline was behind him and he took advantage of its impressiveness. "Eat," he said, with the command so easily wielded by all men of power. Men like Gideon Cross. Had Stanton been as driven at Cross's age? I picked up my fork and started in on a chicken, cranberry, walnut, and feta salad. It was delicious, and I was hungry. I was glad Stanton didn't start talking right away so I could enjoy the meal, but the reprieve didn't last long. "Eva love, I wanted to discuss your interest in Krav Maga." I froze. "Excuse me?" Stanton took a sip of iced water and leaned back, his jaw taking on the rigidity that warned me I wouldn't like what he was about to say. "Your mother was quite distraught last night when you went to that studio in Brooklyn. It took some time to calm her down and to assure her that I could make arrangements for you to pursue your interests in a safe manner
I forced my eyes open and stood up, stepping away from Jasper's hand. "I don't want to go back to sleep," I snapped. I walked to my room and shut the door, slammed it really, so I could be free to go to pieces privately. This time Alice didn't follow me. For three and a half hours I stared at the wall, curled in a ball, rocking. My mind went around in circles, trying to come up with some way out of this nightmare. There was no escape, no reprieve. I could see only one possible end looming darkly in my future. The only question was how many other people would be hurt before I reached it. The only solace, the only hope I had left, was knowing that I would see Edward soon. Maybe, if I could just see his face again, I would also be able to see the solution that eluded me now. When the phone rang, I returned to the front room, a little ashamed of my behavior. I hoped I hadn't
Bates (Anthony Perkins), and no audience wants to identify with h i m — he's weird. In a conventional film, the hero always survives the Ordeal and lives to see the villain defeated in the climax. It's unimaginable that a star like Janet Leigh, an immortal heroine of the screen, will be sacrificed at the midpoint. But Hitchcock does the unthinkable and kills our hero halfway through the story. T h i s is one Ordeal that is final for the hero. N o reprieve, no resurrection, no curtain call for M a r i o n . T h e effect is shattering. You get that odd feeling o f being a disembodied ghost, floating around the frame as you watch Marion's blood pour down the drain. W h o to identify with? W h o to be? Soon it's clear: Hitchcock is giving you no one to identify with but Norman. Reluctantly we enter Norman's mind, see the story through his eyes, and even begin to root for him as our new hero. At first we're supposed to think
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