The gunman — gunwoman, really — had everyone in the office on their knees, hands on their heads, facing away from her. "You, you don't need to do this, you know?" Marie didn't dare look around as she spoke.

"Why shouldn't she?" said Frank, " We're awful. We really do ruin lives here."

"God's sake, Frank," someone hissed, "shut up!"

"Like any of you understand." She was sobbing now. "None of you ha-ha-ha-had to hold Evan's hand while he... all because you bastards denied our claims!" Her voice rose to a scream.

"You're fuckin' right, lady. Do it. Rid the world of—"

"Frank!" Marie glared at him. "Listen, it's awful that you lost someone—"

"My son!"

"God, that's, that's just unthinkable. But hurting us won't bring him back. It'll just bring that same pain to, to many more people. Not just our people, but anyone who cares for you. When... when this is over."

Silence settled over the office. The hostages fidgeted, and one started to cry. Frank looked over his shoulder. The others didn't notice he'd gotten up until he stood over the rifle the gunwoman had left behind. Frank picked it up and looked at his coworkers. He smiled.