"I would like to, perhaps, but I can't. He's still my son," Angela snapped, glaring at Nathan. Part of her wanted to grab her eldest by the ear, drag him in a corner, and force him to look at the wall for speaking to her about that. She was still his mother, no matter how old he was, and he was not going to be this disrespectful to her. She wasn't stupid. She understand the implications of what he had just said, and she had seen the results of what she had done in Peter's eyes. The last thing she needed was for Nathan to accuse her of being blind to something that was obvious.
"And you can shut you mouth, Nathan Petrelli. I am still your mother, and you will not speak to me like that," Angela said, scowling at her son.