We were interrupted by Kat and Patrick coming inside. Kat's hair and face were a mess. Tears streaked her cheeks from the intensity of Patrick's oral domination. She walked quickly to the coffee table and cut four lines, essentially ignoring us. She hadn't sat on the sofa, merely bent over. And I could see how wet she was. Strings of juice trailed down her thighs, even reaching her calves.

"You sure you don't want some, baby?" she asked Patrick. He shook his head.

She took all four lines herself, then picked up one of the smaller plates of coke and announced, "We'll be upstairs." Her eyes were manic. I wondered...