"Are you done?" Drake asked, his patience thinning.

"Yes," Debra replied, pushing the phone back across the table. "Take a look and see if there's anything you'd like to add."

Drake wasn't expecting her to be so forthcoming. He glanced at the phone, checking the new social media account she'd created. There was only one post. It was a selfie, her face slightly retouched to look healthier than she actually was. The location was on the island, and the caption read, [All is well. The gunshots were just for show. I've been down with a high fever, so I've been out of it for a bit. Thanks for the concern, but I'm alive and kicking.]

It was playful, light-hearted, and most importantly, believable. The post had already garnered hundreds of likes and comments within minutes.

Drake closed the app and handed the phone to Peter. "Put it away."

"Yes, sir," Peter replied, sweat dripping down his back.

Debra, sensing her opportunity, leaned back in her chair and quipped, "Well, Mr. Lowe, we've been so caught up talking that our food's gone cold."

Peter froze in his tracks, unsure of what Debra was getting at.

Debra said, "Mr. Lowe dislikes wasting food. Why not heat it?"

either," he said flatly, turning

his seat and strode toward his

sure to clean it all up. Mr. Lowe hates waste, and so do

Peter was pissed off.

fresh food to my room. I'd prefer something light but with plenty of meat. Thanks," she added, heading back

was left fuming. He had thought that Drake was going to punish Debra, but in the end, he was the one who

...

bedroom at the Blair family's residence, Shelia had just

furious swipe, she knocked the entire dinner set

by

a withering glare. "What did you call

"I..."

slap

cheek, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm new

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

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