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.

rolled her eyes. "Fine. I need to use the

the doctor off

twisted obsession with watching people use the bathroom?" Her eyes flicked to the two-way

up

I don't mind, as long as he doesn't

observation room, Drake arched a brow, surprised by

watching women use

of hand. We should teach

Let her go,"

"What?"

her go. Are you

do it right

small, dark room. "Mr. Lowe has

her feet as the nurse

led out

they were on the upper deck of something like a

up!" Peter

glanced at him sullenly. "I don't

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