" Her words were thick and
slurred. She was bombed on painkillers and tranquilizers and
whatever else they were feeding her through the intravenous tube.
"I threw myself away, too, after you made me go. I think I wanted
to make the baby go away. I think I did what I did, the drugs and
all, to hurt it. I'm sick Peter. I'm very sick now, and I have to
get all this poison out of me. Including you."
"Ivy, don't talk this way. I'm sorry. You're sorry. We're both
sorry for the mistake we made. But we've got to deal with it.
It's my responsibility."
She winced. "Now you come to my rescue," a pause, then, "I'm
sorry. I don't want to be like this. I just hate you right now.
So much. Christ, that ride from LA up here."
She was making no sense at all. "What are you talking about?"
Maybe, he thought, it would be better to leave and come back
later, after she had rested.
"Yes. The ride. To see Kate McGreggor. She was the one I wanted
to meet, more than you. She was who I wanted to be like. Her
guards, or whatever they are, never let me in to see her. I tried
to find out more about her, where she lived and all. That was
when I found that article about you, with her in it. I didn't
even know who you were. And then I read about what you'd done,
and that you were why the Joey was what it was, I don't know, I
wanted to do that instead.
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