After a moment, Peter shook his head. "No, Mom. I'm still your son, but I'm not who I was. Too much has changed."
He took another step back. "November 8, 2006. A bomb was set to explode in New York City. No, not a bomb-- a person. You knew about it. You knew who it was."
He looked away, down at the ground between them, bitterness making its way into his voice. "And I didn't find out until after I'd exploded and killed five million people."