Debra woke up groggily, unsure how long she had been out. The room around her was pitch black, and memories started to rush back.

She remembered that she had been thrown into this dark room by Drake's people.

A sharp pain shot through her arm, causing her to suck in a breath. She instinctively tried to pull her arm away, but a man's voice cut through the darkness. "Don't move."

"Who are you?"

A nurse turned on a flashlight, and Debra squinted against the sudden brightness.

"You've got a fever," the nurse explained, "Mr. Lowe ordered us to treat you."

Debra glanced at the discarded plastic packaging on the floor. It said fever medication.

She relaxed slightly, though her tone remained cold. "How long does Drake plan on keeping me locked up in here?"

"That's up to Mr. Lowe," the doctor said without any emotion. "We don't question his decisions."

Seeing that they were only there to treat her, Debra pressed further. "Is he planning to kill me?"

"If Mr. Lowe wanted you dead, he wouldn't have sent us to help you," the nurse replied.

eyes. "Fine. I need

caught the doctor

added, "It's a basic human need. Do you expect me to do it here? Does Drake have some twisted obsession with watching people use the bathroom?" Her eyes flicked to

up to

ask him for permission. I don't mind, as long

observation room, Drake arched a brow, surprised

he had some vulgar interest in watching women use

"Sir, she's getting out of hand. We should teach her a

Let her go," Drake

"What?"

her go. Are you

it right

the small, dark room. "Mr. Lowe has

struggling to her feet as the nurse helped her. She deliberately slowed her

was led out of

they were on the upper deck of something like

up!" Peter

at him sullenly. "I don't know

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