Don't be stupid. I'm already your child in everything but blood, in... one form or another. And you're not just --

[ the decay and the dread and the heavy sickening rot ]

-- that. You're Beckett, and that's important. You're important. Don't write yourself off like that, it's insulting.

[ She's struggling back to her feet as she talks, though it's taking considerable effort. When she finally manages it, she has to brace herself against the sink as her legs wobble dangerously beneath her. Ergh. ]

But on the subject of what you - of what - ugh.

Are you going to kill me?