Good morning friends, I do not have much time. I'm currently at my beloved son David's house—and we are surrounded by police cars. Their sirens are blaring and I hear banging. Just constant noise.

David took me from my house; my darling, he saved me. He took down a few cop cars before we got to his house.

I put my head out the window. The wind was in my hair. I was a child again in the backseat as my father was being chased by cops after robbing the Brentwood Savings Bank . . . running the crisp 20 dollar bill through my fingers as the sirens blared.

I'm my father’s daughter. I always have been.

I did kill Garfield. It's clear to the world now, but I don't care about the consequences. I've steered my ship into the iceberg. I'll sink with it. David will sink with me.

The door is caving in.

I love you all—to bits and back.

May your gods be with you.