Original subtitles

( security door buzzes )

Hi, again.

( chuckles )

Uh, I've been waiting to see the director for 40 minutes now.

Do you have any idea how much longer he's going to be?

I'm sorry, all I can say is he does know you're here.

Well, I believe District Attorney Devalos spoke with him.

He arranged for me to see one of your patients at 9:30.

Ma'am, I understand exactly what you want.

I understand exactly why you're here.

But you're just going to have to take a seat

until the doctor comes down.

Well, maybe you could just page him.

You know, I have already called twice.

Now, there's really nothing else to do but take a seat.

Look, you know what?

He's obviously pretty busy today.

You all seem pretty busy today.

So I think what I'm gonna have to do for now is,

I'm just gonna leave, and I'll call back tomorrow

and try to reschedule, okay? Thanks.

I'm sorry, um, I think I need you to buzz me out.

I think you really need to take a seat.

Excuse me?

Come on, now, Beverly, just take a seat.

You know, let's not go through this all over again.

I'm sorry, go through what again?

I don't know what you're talking about.

My name isn't Beverly.

Could you just open the door?

Okay, obviously we've had a huge misunderstanding here.

You know the Day Room rules, Beverly.

You've been asked to take a seat-- take a seat.

I am happy to take a seat,

but perhaps you could just call the director and let him know

that Allison Dubois-- not Beverly--

-is here to see him. -We're happy to make that call,

Beverly, if you'll just come with us.

What? What?

-Hey! Get off me! -Beverly.

-How dare you! This is a mistake! -Calm down.

-Beverly. Don't... Beverly. -I'm Allison Dubois!

-I'm here to see the director! -Beverly, calm down.

Let me go!

Please don't do this!

Please!

I'm not a patient! Please don't...

Please don't do this.

Please! Please! I'm not a patient!

Please... ( muffled speaking )

Now, try to relax now, Beverly.

This will only hurt for a moment.

( muffled yelling )

( electrical buzzing )

( screams )

( panting )

( toilet flushes )

JOE: Thank God you're up.

Um, you know if we have any more aspirin?

What? Aspirin?

Um...

I-I... think there's some in the kids' bathroom,

some chewables.

Why?

My head's killing me.

( sighs ): Oh, tell me about it.

Mom!

I think we're out of milk.

I just bought some last night-- look again.

Here.

JOE: 10:00 should be fine for the McMillan meeting.

Yeah. Just make sure

that Mike and Steve know.

All right, what'll it be, yogurt or cereal?

Yogurt with cereal on top.

And you, milady?

-Breath mints. -Well, that

is not an option, so try again.

Oh, yogurt.

Okay.

( doll voice ): Let's go shopping.

Aren't you a little old for dolls?

-Ariel. -The box said,

"For ages

five and up."

-So? -So, I'm ages

-five and up. -You don't act like it.

Ariel.

JOE: Okay, I'll... All right, I'll see you soon.

DOLL: I like to color.

JOE: Okay.

How's your headache?

Any better?

JOE: Much. I may never take grown-up aspirin again.

Mommy... Bridgette's taking breath mints

out of your purse.

Aren't you a little old

to tattletale?

Bridgette.

You,

finish your yogurt; you, stop taking things

out of my purse without asking. Got it?

Got it.

All right, put those mints down.

Finish your yogurt.

The Mommy Express is leaving for school in ten minutes.

I.D. badge?

( scanner beeps )

( sighs ): Bridgette.

( laughs ): It seems...

my seven-year-old's made off with it.

But I do have my driver's license, though.

I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't let you through without your badge.

Come on, you know me. I'm here almost every morning.

I understand, ma'am, but without your badge,

I can't let you through.

Why don't you just give your office a call,

have them phone down to Security

and put your name on the visitors list?

Oh, Bridgette, not my cell phone.

Okay, is there a pay phone or something?

Okay. Okay.

I'm sorry, I'm expecting a call.

Okay, well... I just have to call upstairs.

It'll just take a second.

( phone rings )

Hello?

No, no, no. Don't-don't hang up.

Just... just talk to me.

Do you have the baby?

Of course. I'll meet you anywhere you like.

Just-just promise me that you won't hurt her.

Hi. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a bother,

but I'm late for an important meeting.

Is there any way you could use your security phone

to call the District Attorney's Office and get me cleared?

I would really

appreciate it.

( sighs )

-What's your name? -Allison Dubois.

Thank you.

Ma'am?

I'm afraid they don't know you up there.

-What? -The District Attorney's Office.

They said there's no one by the name

of Allison Dubois on their staff.

Well, that's not possible.

-Who did you talk to? -Ma'am...

-I'm sorry, could you just try again? -I'm sorry, ma'am.

I was violating procedure calling the first time.

No, I know, but maybe if you let me talk to them...

I'm sorry, ma'am, you're just gonna have

to go home and get your badge.

This is ridiculous.

Please don't raise your voice, ma'am.

( loudly ): I'm not raising my voice!

I am trying to get into my office.

Do you have a problem here?

-Well, kind of. -She claims she works

in the District Attorney's Office and forgot her badge.

But when I called upstairs,

they claimed they didn't know her.

It's just a misunderstanding.

Do you have an I. D. badge, ma'am?

Yes. But apparently, I left it at home.

Well, I think the only thing to do, then,

is to go back home and get it.

( chuckles )

You're right.

I'll just drive home and get it.

Appreciate it, miss.

And would you mind if we escorted you back to your car?

You know, this really isn't necessary.

I think I can find my own car.

( gasps )

My car is gone!

Now, are you sure this is where you parked it?

Yes! Yeah! Yes, I'm sure!

This is my spot.

I park right here every day.

Right next to this red truck.

Why are you looking at me that way?

-My-my car has been stolen. -Yes, ma'am.

So how do you want to do this?

You want to fill a report out now,

standing here in the middle of the parking lot?

Or would you like us to run you home, so you can get your badge

and whatever else you need, and fill it out

in your office when you get back?

Yes.

Yes, please, if you could run me home and back.

( indistinct police radio transmission )

Thank you.

Problem?

( nervous laugh )

My key isn't working.

Are you sure you live here?

What kind of question is that?

Of course I live here.

I've lived here for nine years.

Can I help you?

I don't know. Can I help you?

What are you doing in my house?

-Officers... -Don't talk to them,

talk to me!

What are you doing in my house?

Sorry to bother you.

Do you know this woman?

Does this woman live here, ma'am?

No. I'm sorry, I've never seen her before in my life.

She's lying!

This is preposterous! This is my house!

Go ask my neighbors, go inside,

-go look at my things. -Sorry to have

bothered you, ma'am.

-( baby crying ) -Our mistake.

This is my house!

My children live in this house!

My husband lives in this house!

This is my house!

You have to believe me!

You have to help me!

We do believe you, and we do want to help you.

( screaming ): Stop it!

Stop it! Stop it, please!

Listen to me!

You're making a terrible mistake!

( gasping )

Welcome back, Beverly.

That'll be all, gentlemen.

Thank you.

Try to relax now, Beverly.

Why do you keep calling me that?

'Cause it's your name.

No. My name is Allison.

Allison Dubois.

Please...

I need to call my husband.

You mean Joe?

How do you know that?

We've been at this

for how long now, Beverly?

Eight months?

Nine?

I don't know what you're talking about.

I have never been here before.

You know, I understand

the allure of "Allison Dubois."

I do.

I understand why you want to be her.

She has a loving husband,

three beautiful children,

an exciting career.

But we have to confront the fact

that Allison Dubois isn't real,

and that the deeper you lose yourself

in the fantasy of her life,

the less likely you are to ever find any sort of true happiness.

Now, what year is it?

Excuse me?

The year.

Beverly,

I'd like you to tell me what the year is.

2005?

This is the 12th of June, 1959.

( sobbing )

I don't understand.

The only thing

you need to understand

is there's a very real world

out there

and it's just waiting for you.

The sooner you accept that...

the sooner you let go of Allison,

the sooner you're going to get better.

Oh.

( toilet flushes )

JOE: Thank God you're up.

Um, you know if we have any more aspirin?

( sighs )

Mom!

I think we're out of milk.

I got some last night.

Look again.

Here.

10:00 should be fine for the McMillan meeting.

Just make sure that Mike and Steve know.

( doll's voice ): Let's go shopping.

ARIEL: Aren't you a little old for dolls?

BRIDGETTE: The box said,

"For ages five and up."

ARIEL: So?

BRIDGETTE: So... I'm ages five and up.

ARIEL: You don't act like it.

JOE: You okay?

Look like you just saw a ghost.

Wait, scratch that.

You look like someone who isn't you

would look if they saw a ghost.

Everything that just happened here, I dreamt last night.

You glimpsed a future in which you poured yogurt?

My God, stop her before she dreams again.

I'm serious.

ARIEL: Mommy.

Bridgette's getting breath mints out of your purse.

BRIDGETTE: Aren't you getting a little too old

to be a tattletale?

That, too?

I am awake, right?

Ow!

You're awake. I'm dreaming.

ID badge?

Oh.

Can't... I can't seem to find it.

But I'm sure if you call the District Attorney's office...

Mrs. Dubois?

It's all right.

Just be sure and remember it tomorrow, okay?

30 years, Arizona State Correctional Facility.

It's a gift, Maggie.

Aw, I'm touched.

I hope you won't be hurt

when I try and return it and get something better.

Margaret, your client murdered his own parents.

He did it with a skilsaw.

Then he went out to dinner with some friends

and used his father's credit card to pay the bill.

There is nothing better.

Now, you know, ordinarily I'd agree with you.

But in this case, he wasn't in his right mind

when he committed those terrible acts.

He didn't know what he was doing.

And under the law...

Please.

What about when he buried the bodies and scrubbed down

the house with bleach to get rid of the evidence?

Was he in his right mind then? Or his left?

Isn't he delightful?

He actually thinks the person

who scoffs the most wins.

Whether you like it or not, Manuel,

Timothy Kercher has

a severe dissociative identity disorder.

In fact, one of the leading psychiatrists

at the University of Arizona is prepared to come to court

and to testify that

an alternate personality was responsible

for both the crime and the attempt to cover it up.

-Really? -Both.

An alternate personality?

Hmm. I wonder which one stood to inherit his parents' money.

Come on, Manny.

We both know how this is going to go.

I'm going to trot out my expert

who says that the kid is too crazy to stand trial.

And you're going to trot out yours that says he's not.

We're going to waste a lot of money

and a lot of time

and a judge is going to appoint somebody to break the tie.

Exactly.

Which is why I was hoping

you might be more receptive to my offer.

Here's what I'm prepared to do.

Let my staff and me interview him one last time.

If we think that he's not competent to stand trial,

I'll stipulate as such to the court.

What are you up to?

Just trying to save us both some time.

If we concur with your expert, then Kercher will be remanded

to a psychiatric facility

for treatment inside of a week.

If not, you're no worse off than when you walked in here.

Yeah, I'll, um, set up something for this afternoon.

( chuckles )

I like her.

That makes two of us.

How long has she been sick?

Found out a few months ago.

Apparently there's not much they can do.

That's awful.

Part of me actually hopes that I'm wrong about Kercher

and we can wrap this up fast.

Who knows, maybe there are

alternative therapies out there.

The sooner this is over,

the sooner she can try and find some help.

It was like coming out of a deep sleep.

Only I couldn't have been sleeping,

because I was standing.

And I was breathing hard.

Like I'd just run ten miles as fast as I could.

But that made no sense because...

I was standing in the middle of my living room.

At first I thought I must be sick,

and so I started to check my pulse.

And that's when I noticed...

the piece of scalp on the back of my hand.

It must have been my mother's

because the hair was definitely blonde.

And when I touched it,

it was still wet.

Still warm.

Like it hadn't been there very long.

And that's when it hit me.

He'd done it.

He'd finally gone and done it.

DEVALOS: I'm sorry. Who did what, Mr. Kercher?

Mr. Kercher?

Jack.

He hated my parents.

He's always hated my parents.

He'd been threatening

to kill them forever.

DEVALOS: I see.

So where is Jack now?

Come on, now.

I know you know.

I know they told you all about him.

You know exactly where he is.

Well, no. I'm sorry.

This is the first I've heard of him.

He's here.

He's inside me...

listening.

He can hear every word you say.

Really?

That's amazing.

It is.

So may I speak with Jack?

No.

I'm sorry.

Jack's not speaking today.

It hurts when Jack talks.

Really, this will just take a second.

No.

He won't do it.

It hurts.

Yes, it hurts-- I understand.

He said it hurts, you fat, bald bastard!

Come here!

Come here! Come closer!

I'll rip your nose off!

I'll rip your ears off!

Come here!

Any one of you!

Come on! Come on!

Quite a performance, huh?

I don't know... he seemed pretty convincing to me.

You're saying that because you sense something,

because you saw something?

No, not really.

It's just... he genuinely scared me.

I did get some numbers, though.

Couldn't tell you if they make him a liar or not.

Just the same nine numbers over and over again.

Seven-nine-six-zero-zero- two-eight-oh-five.

Do you know what they could mean?

Beats me.

Maybe it's Jack's social security number.

Hang on.

I got to get back to the office.

See you tomorrow.

Yeah, go.

Welcome back, Beverly.

( screaming )

Our proud founder.

Really?

He started all this?

Well, with a lot of help and some government funding.

Oh, forgive me. My name's Roger.

I'm a graduate student.

I'm doing my thesis on the history of this place.

You know, I didn't mean to startle you,

it's just nobody ever stops to look at these pictures.

I thought maybe you escaped from one of the wards.

( chuckles )

Afraid not, Roger.

I'm Allison.

I work with the District Attorney's office.

And his name is?

Dr. Elliot Peterson.

Very highly regarded in his day.

Of course, a lot of what he did,

a lot of what he advocated, we consider barbaric now,

but at the time...

That's strange.

This corridor looks brand new.

That's because it is.

You're standing in the new wing.

The old wing's in the rear.

That's where Peterson used to play

with the cutting edge therapies of the 1950s.

Electroshock, insulin-shock, ice baths.

Yes, it was a great time to be young, free and mentally ill.

They were going to tear all this down

back when they built the new wing back in 1997,

but they ran out of funding.

Lucky for me.

It's a treasure trove of information for my thesis.

Well, this is it.

497 patient histories

detailing 28 years worth

of unintentional psychiatric cruelty.

Pretty impressive, huh?

Sure is.

You ever run across a file on a patient named Beverly?

Does this Beverly have a last name?

Never mind.

She would have been a patient of Dr. Peterson's

around July, 1959.

We have a Beverly Waller, admitted November 3, 1958.

I think we have some film on her

if you're interested.

Beverly Waller suffered a nervous collapse

in the fall of 1958.

Separated from her husband shortly thereafter,

but he sued for custody

of their eight-month-old daughter and won.

Almost unheard of back then.

Patient fell into a deep

and unrecoverable depressive state,

kidnapped her child

and apparently threw herself and her infant daughter

off the Mayawoch Bridge.

Mom was rescued...

Child apparently drowned.

Beverly was committed here shortly thereafter.

Thank you.

All right, you got to say "roll 'em."

Roll 'em.

Please, you have to let me out of here.

I have to pick up my children.

PETERSON: You know you don't have any children, Beverly?

Not anymore.

( sobbing ): You're wrong. I have three of them.

They're probably wondering where I am!

What year is it?

Why do you keep asking me that?

Beverly, come on.

Just tell me the year, please.

It's the year 2005.

And you know damn well my name's not Beverly.

It's Allison.

Allison Dubois.

( film flapping )

She thought she was you?

Not Joan of Arc,

not the Virgin Mary, not Madam Curie,

but Allison Dubois living in the year 2005?

She knew your name.

She knew all the girls' names.

She knew everyone's birthdays.

She named the street we live on, everything.

Does that make me a bigamist?

There's got to be some sort of a logical explanation.

I know. I mean,

I keep going over it in my head.

I mean, I know it makes no sense,

but I can't help wondering

if maybe I had something to do with this.

Allison, this woman lived half a century ago.

How can you possibly have anything to do with it?

I don't know.

Maybe when I was dreaming about her,

I got into her head.

I projected thoughts from the present

without realizing it.

Wait a second.

Now you're beaming your brain waves

back in time? Come on.

I mean, I don't think so.

Oh, forget it. You know what?

I'm just trying to makes sense out of it.

I can't tell you how eerie it is

to sit in a room

and watch someone from before you were born

recite all the pertinent facts of your life.

Speaking of which, is my first wife still alive?

She died of amyloidosis in 1962.

Sounds grisly.

What is that, a brain thing?

It's a liver thing.

Uh-huh.

Genetic disorder.

Hey!

Hey. Hey, is that it?

Aren't you going to help me figure out what to do?

What do you mean? What is there to do?

I mean, a woman's dead.

There's no bringing her back.

You're good, but you're not that good.

Now let your husband get some sleep.

The first Allison always did.

( sighs )

( sobbing )

MAN: Beverly, I need you to listen to me.

I need you to try to understand.

This was never about me trying to take Anna from you.

I would never keep you from our child.

I know how much you love her,

and I know that you would never try to hurt her.

So, please, just give her to me.

No!

Okay, okay, just, just.

if you don't trust me,

then give her to your sister.

WOMAN: Please, Bev,

it's cold out here.

Let's just go back to the house, talk this thing through.

Someday you'll understand all this, Carol, I promise.

And someday, it will

all be clear.

-No! -Beverly!

Oh...

Allison,

I didn't expect to see you here today.

I just stopped by to do a little research.

Any new progress on the Kercher case?

We still haven't been able to identify

that string of numbers you saw.

Best guess is that it's a bank account number.

Although it doesn't seem to match up

with any of the accounts in Kercher's name.

You going to be around for a while?

I was just going to do this one thing and go.

Not a problem.

If something changes, I'll give you a call.

Hello?

Carol Waller Smith?

Carol Waller?

Are you the sister of Beverly Waller?

Can I help you?

Well, I hope so.

I work for the District Attorney's office in Phoenix.

My name is Allison Dubois.

So, you want me to try and make sense

of something that makes no sense...

Mrs. Dubois.

If that really is your name.

That really is my name.

A mother isn't supposed to want to kill herself,

let alone her own child.

And I loved my sister.

Do love my sister.

So ask me whatever you want.

Tell me about her breakdown.

Tell me about what happened.

Well, it was right...

after the birth of her only child, Anna.

She started having nightmares;

terrible dreams...

about her husband Walter.

In them, he was... doing things.

Terrible things to Anna.

What happened?

I told her to see a doctor.

She saw two or three doctors and they all...

gave her something to help her sleep.

And the more she slept...

The more she had the nightmares.

And she became convinced

that she had to get Anna away from Walter.

And that's when she left him.

She and Anna moved in with my husband and me.

Did she ever tell anyone else about her dreams?

Oh, a lot of people.

It didn't help at all.

Walter was so well liked in our town.

He was a war veteran.

He was principal of the junior high school.

He was a man people looked up to.

So when the custody battle started...

It all went Walter's way.

You know, in retrospect...

I think people wished

they'd taken my sister a little more seriously.

She may have been crazy,

but she obviously knew

there was something really wrong with Walter.

What do you mean?

I would have thought you'd known.

Several years after Beverly's passing,

a parent at Walter's school marched into his office

and shot him to death.

Walter had been molesting his little girl

since the sixth grade.

She's psychic, Joe, just like me.

That's the answer.

Whoa, whoa, slow down. Who's psychic?

Beverly Waller. She had a dream,

a vision that her husband

was going to hurt their daughter.

That's why she tried to get her away from him.

Okay.

And that's how she knew so much about me,

about my life-- because she saw it in her mind, in her visions.

But Al, she didn't just see you.

She said that she was you.

Exactly. I don't think she understood what she truly was.

All these terrible images kept popping into her head

and she didn't understand why.

When she tried to turn to others for help,

tried to tell them what she was seeing,

they told her she was crazy.

And I guess after a while, she believed them.

Al, we're talking about a murderer here,

somebody who took the life of her own child.

I know.

I think... I guess that she became convinced

that killing Anna was preferable to whatever torture

she saw her husband inflict every night in her dreams.

I still don't get it.

Don't get what?

All right, I understand now

how Beverly Waller knew all about our lives

back in 1959.

Can you please tell me why she was dreaming

about you in the first place?

Or for that matter, why you're dreaming about her now?

Allison?

I have no idea.

DR. PETERSON: Today is July 17, 1959...

JOE: Did I miss the previews?

I don't think we're getting any reception in here.

I'm worried if the girls wake up,

they're not going to know

where we are.

One can only hope.

I'm kidding.

I told them where we were.

They're all out of popcorn.

BEVERLY: Mornings are the hardest.

( sighs )

That's when I miss them the most.

PETERSON: Who?

That's what she looks like?

Excellent.

Shh!

Joe... the girls...

The mad dash to get everyone out of the house...

to work...

to school...

You'd think it would become routine, but it never did.

It was always chaos, and...

it was always wonderful.

PETERSON: So, you're a woman from the future

trapped in the year 1959.

Is that honestly what you expect me to believe?

Frankly, Doctor, it doesn't matter what you believe.

It only matters what she believes.

She's the only one that matters.

What the hell does that mean?

( film flapping )

( cell phone ringing )

( door opens )

ALLISON: Got it, babe.

( whispers ): Here.

Hello?

DEVALOS: Allison, I hope

I'm not calling too late, but I have news.

News? We like news.

That series of numbers that you saw

when you were speaking with Timothy Kercher?

Turns out it is a bank account belonging to a Dr. Elaine Doyle.

Doyle, Doyle, Doyle...

Why do I recognize that name?

Probably because you read

the same psych evaluation that I did.

The psychiatrist who diagnosed Kercher

with dissociative identity disorder.

And would you care to guess

who transferred a quarter of a million dollars

into her bank account less than 24 hours

after she made that diagnosis?

Let me guess...

Don't tell me.

I see the initials "T" and "K."

The good doctor was arrested a few hours ago

and admitted to everything.

It turns out that Kercher

didn't just pay her for the evaluation.

He paid her to coach him-- to teach him

how to mimic the behavior of a person

with dissociative identity disorder.

Does Maggie know yet?

Yeah, I just told her. She's furious.

She's on the phone with her client right now,

insisting he enter a guilty plea.

Hopefully, we'll be able

to hammer out a deal in the morning,

and she'll be able to turn her attention

to taking care of herself.

She, uh... just got off the phone.

I-I guess I'll see you in the morning.

Okay.

( hangs up )

( laughs gently )

( sobbing ): Someday you'll understand all this, Carol.

I promise!

Someday, it will all be clear.

( sobbing )

No!

CAROL: Beverly...

( wailing sobs )

Allison?

( panting )

Well, that's $29.99 well spent.

( sighs )

She didn't kill her baby, Joe.

This thing ran on two "D" batteries, honey.

-She absolutely killed it. -Not Bridgette.

Beverly. She was holding a doll

the night she threw herself off the bridge.

I'm sorry. What?

She needed everybody to believe that Anna was dead,

so that nobody would ever go looking for her,

so that her father could never get his hands on her.

She was crazy, all right. She was crazy like a fox.

She knew exactly what she was doing,

right down to being sure

that she had witnesses for the big jump.

The only thing I don't think she counted on was...

surviving it.

But once she did, she had to stick to her story.

She had to let the rest of the world think

she'd killed her own kid,

so that no one would try and find her.

So, she spent the rest of her life in an institution.

Even though she wasn't the least bit insane.

So, maybe the reason

you've been dreaming about her...

the reason that she claimed

to be you when she was in that hospital...

maybe you're supposed to... to help clear her name,

tell the world that she's not a killer.

No, no, no.

All Beverly ever cared about was her baby.

All she ever wanted to do was to protect her.

She would only be reaching out to me

if-if her daughter needed help.

The daughter she stashed away so well

that no one even knew she existed for 46 years?

A woman who could be anywhere in the world right now?

Great. Well, tracking her down should take only, what?

Another 46 years.

Give or take.

WOMAN: Mrs. Dubois?

Mrs. Dubois? Over here.

Mrs. Fulsom, are you okay?

Yeah, more or less.

I just started feeling nauseous all of a sudden.

Can you move?

Probably not without throwing up.

Okay, uh, wait here.

I'll go get some help.

No, no, no, no, no.

Actually, I'd rather you didn't do that.

The last thing I want is some big scene

in the garage of the District Attorney's office.

Are you sure?

Okay, I'll make a deal with you.

If it doesn't pass, then you can go get somebody.

But for now,

I'd just like you to...

sit with me.

Okay.

( car door shuts )

( sighs )

No, no, no, no, here. Let me get that.

Here, it's okay.

( coughs )

What I have isn't catching... if you're wondering.

No, no, I'm not wondering.

It's hereditary.

I wish somebody had told me

about that when I was younger.

I wouldn't have wasted

so much energy being a control freak.

I'm sorry.

You know what the worst part of it is?

I still can't spell the stupid thing.

-( chuckles ) -No, I'm serious.

If you're gonna drop dead of something,

you should at least be able to spell it, right?

I would think so.

( sighs )

I feel always compelled to add the extra "L."

"Amyloidosis:

A-m-y-l-o-i...

( sing-song voice ): d-o-s-i-s."

It's a liver condition, right?

You've heard of it?

I thought that was treatable nowadays.

( chuckles ) Nowadays.

I just mean...

in the past, there wasn't much a person could do,

but today, I thought you could address it with a transplant.

It could, in theory.

But, uh, apparently, I'm a tough tissue match.

Well, what about your family?

A live donor could give you a partial transplant...

I'm adopted.

Maggie...

what year were you born?

I know it's a strange question,

but I think it might be important.

1959.

( chuckles )

ALLISON: All right, repeat after me, Bridge.

No baths.

BRIDGETTE: No baths.

No haircuts.

No haircuts.

-No makeup. -No makeup.

Okay, you may now open your doll.

DOLL: Let's go potty.

You know, dear, if you just

buy them new ones, they don't learn anything.

I know.

But if she hadn't left the old one in the tub...

I figure I owed her one.

So, how did that Maggie person take it

when you told her that she was really Anna Waller?

Well, she didn't believe me at first.

Till I brought her to meet Carol Waller and her family.

And now the Wallers have met their long-lost kin,

I'm sure they're just lining up

to give this perfect stranger a piece of their livers.

Well, actually, three of them offered

to get tested to see if they're a match.

Yeah, but what are the chances of...?

* Birds singing in the sycamore tree... *

They're all going to match, aren't they?

( chuckles )

* Dream a little dream of me *

( sighs )

* Say "nighty-night" and kiss me *

* Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me *

* While I'm alone and blue as can be *

-* Dream a little dream of me * -DR. PETERSON: Beverly?

Beverly, did you hear what I said?

No.

I'm sorry.

I was a million miles away.

I was just saying I think we've made

a great deal of progress today.

I agree, Doctor.

A great deal of progress.