In the cabin, Drake rested his face on his hand and stared at the mirror that displayed Debra's every move. "Sir..."

"What do you think she's doing?"

"She..."

Peter looked over and saw Debra curling up in the corner, unmoving.

"Maybe she's scared."

"Scared?"

Drake raised an eyebrow. He'd seen people terrified out of their minds in this same room, but none of them acted like Debra.

That was not fear.

"Make some noise."

"Yes, sir."

Peter went out, and soon after, the muffled sound of women screaming echoed from the adjacent room. Debra, however, remained in the same position. Peter returned. "It's done, sir."

frowned, observing Debra's lack

asked, suddenly standing up. "Go open

"Huh?"

snapped out of it, grabbed the keys, and went

it swung open, Debra remained slumped in the corner. Drake strode forward, yanking her

frowned and

Peter whispered, "is she

it obvious?"

silently

in his arms and ordered, "Go get a

out, hurrying

kill Debra. Now Peter wasn't sure about his

before shaking his head grimly. "Her fever's dangerously

just a fever.

shot him

almost

it

this keepsve cause brain

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