Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
"How old are you?" Blake asked. "I see," Blake said. He indicated the book on her lap. "Homework?" flamed in Blake's cheeks, and for a moment he considered leaving then he remembered Eldoria's dance, and he went right on sitting where he was. of the neck. He shifted uncomfortably on the guest mat. She had taken up the Blake sat down upon it. Nervously he watched Eldoria slip out of her awakening was in the grayness of dawn, and he got up and dressed and moved silently to the doorway. The girl slept just without the arras on In sleep, a strand of her copper-colored hair had tumbled down across her forehead and lay like a lovely flower upon the virginal whiteness of her skin. There was something saintly about her quiet face. When he reached the alley he began to run, and he did not stop running they had been on his trail, but for some reason he had been unable to bring himself to go back and find out who they were and what they wanted. Hence he was as vexed with himself as he was with them. off a mind-tracker. It would have done her but little good if she had, for twelve years as a psycheye had taught Blake all the tricks. Probably she had taken it for granted that the mere act of hiding out in her tracker's mind was in itself a sufficient guarantee of her safety. After all, she had no way of knowing that he had discovered her presence. where Blake had lived at a much later date. In reality, the places were Blake. At Blake's entry he went right on smoking and watching as though the door had neither opened nor closed. He would go right on smoking and watching till Blake died and the conglomeration of place-times that constituted Blake's mind-world ceased to be. Ironically, he was watching nothing. The 3V program that had been in progress at the time of the unconscious materialization had failed to come through. The memory was a treasured one—the old man had perished in a 'copter crash several years ago—and for a long while Blake did not move. He had never been in his own mind before. Consequently he was more affected than he might otherwise have been. Finally, stirring himself, on the front. His mother was standing before the huge automatic range, preparing a meal she had served twenty-three years ago. He regarded her with moist eyes. She had died a dozen years before his father, but the wound that her death had caused had never healed. He wanted to go up behind her and touch her shoulder and say, "What's for supper, mom?" but he knew it would do no good. For her he had no reality, not only because he was far in her future, but because in his mind-world she was a mortal and he, a god—a picayune god, perhaps, but a real one. Not the campus of the university which he had visited two days ago to attend his protegee's graduation. It was not a place-time that he cared to revisit, nor a moment that he cared to relive, but Sabrina's trail tightened his throat when he looked at Deirdre's delicate profile and copper-colored hair, intensified when he lowered his eyes to the remembered blueness of her graduation dress. The diamond brooch that he had given her as a graduation present, and which she had proudly pinned upon her bodice for the whole wide world to see, made him want to cry. His self-image of two weeks ago shocked him. There were lines on Blake Past shook his head. "Proms aren't for parents. You know that father, I'm certainly old enough to be. That young man—" A pink flush of anger climbed into Deirdre Eldoria's girlish cheeks. only making everything worse. After majoring in Trevorism, you certainly ought to realize by now that there was nothing noble about my buying you after Eldoria died. I only did it to ease my conscience—" "What do you Blake Past stood up too. "No, not yet. I'll walk back to the sorority house with you." She tossed her head, but the sadness in her tarn-blue eyes belied her Blake Present watched them set out side by side toward the remembered All that existed for Blake Present were the diminishing figures of the girl and the man, and the pain that was constricting his throat. Wretchedly he turned away. As he did so he saw the three shadows lying at his feet and knew that his pursuers had at last caught up to him. His first reaction when he faced them was amazement. His next reaction was shock. His third was fear. His amazement resulted from recognition. One of the three women arrayed much that their hatred had thinned out their faces and darkened their eyes. More shocking yet, Vera Velvetskin, who had never existed save in some copywriter's mind, hated him too. In fact, judging from the greater thinness of her face and the more pronounced darkness of her eyes, she hated him even more than Miss Stoddart and Officer Finch did. His fear resulted from the realization that his mind-world contained phenomena it had no right to contain—not if he was nearly as well-adjusted as he considered himself to be. The three women standing before him definitely were not memory-images. They were too vivid, for one thing. For another, they were aware of him. What were they, then? found himself clinging to the slope of a traumatically distorted mountain. His patient was beside him. The mountain proved to be an unconscious memory-image out of the both himself and his patient back to the objective world, and not long afterward he was able to duplicate the feat on another case. and set about founding a new school of psychology. It was equally inevitable that he should acquire enemies as well as disciples. However, as the years passed and the new therapy which he devised cured more and more psychoses, the ranks of his disciples swelled and those of his enemies shrank. When, shortly before his death, he published a paper explaining how anyone could enter his or her own mind-world at will, his niche in the Freudian hall of fame was assured. the place-time materialization of the little office Blake had opened ransacked it before moving into a co-terminous memory-image. Even this action wouldn't have given her away, however, if the office hadn't constituted a sentimental memory. Whenever Blake accepted a case he invariably thought of the bleak and lonely little room with its thin-gauge steel desk and battered filing cabinets, and when he had done so after accepting his case—or was it before? He couldn't quite remember—the mental picture that had come into his mind had revealed open drawers, scattered papers and a general air of disarray. He had suspected the truth immediately, and when he had seen the Her only advantage lost, Sabrina York was now at his mercy. Unless she discovered his presence and was able to locate his most recently materialized place-time before he over-took her, her capture was assured. Only two things bothered Blake. The little office was far in his past, and it was unlikely that anyone save the few intimate acquaintances whom he had told about it were aware that it had ever existed. How, then, had a total stranger such as Sabrina York learned enough about it to enable her to use it as a point of entry? The other thing that bothered him was of a much more urgent nature. of Trevorism to know that people were sometimes capable of creating beings considerably higher on the scale of mind-country evolution than ordinary memory-ghosts. One woman whom he had apprehended in her her wherever she went. And once, after tracking down an ex-enlisted man, he had found his quarry holed up in the memory-image of an army barracks with a ten-star general waiting on him hand and foot. But that Blake was less well-adjusted than he considered himself to be, why reason for Blake to linger. As a matter of fact, the fascination that fascination, and Blake not only lingered but went inside as well.

<question>:
Why did Blake visit his mom in the kitchen?

<options>:
A He wanted to touch her and ask her a question.
B He was looking for Sabrina York.
C His dad was smoking in the other room.
D He had never gotten over her death.

<answer>:

B