In the time since the provocative grandeur of his escape from the asylum began to fade in his mind, and he reacted with an almost ridiculous fear of being discovered, he has sometimes sat in the office and imagined what it would be like; mother and son reunited, how he would cry and beg for another chance to go home, held in a tight, reassuring embrace. In his imagination, Astoria had stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on his forehead, then sworn in her soft voice that she would never let him go again.