Susan is taken aback as she is addressed as Ms Clark.  As she takes a seat with the direction given.<br/><br/>Her hands fidget in her lap, a nervous display.  Sliding them under as she lifted up partially.  She place them under herself.  Settling back down to sit on her hands.  Her bright blue eyes dart at you and like her hands convey a nervous disposition.  Her eyes sweep from the bottle to you, then back to the bottle.<br/><br/>Bottom lip quivers as she hears the explanation of the bottle.  A bottle of death, concocted to end his agony.  But never used, a cold  turkey quit to drinking.   The words bring a flow of sentiment of compassion welling up within her.  Yet it is the final words that hook her.<br/><br/>'I don't need the escape anymore, Susan. I've got you, and I'm happy with you.'<br/><br/><em>"Yes you do master."</em><br/><br/>Susan answer softly back in rhetorical response to you have her.<br/><br/>An suddenly fear entered into her.  No not the fear that you could demand anything of her.  Not the fear of despair.  But the fear you could claim one thing from her now, the one thing she could have kept.   Through that one thing, she does not quite realize what it is.  However, her stomach knots up on the inside.