"Marion?" Debra rubbed her sleepy eyes and glanced at the clock on the wall.

It was already 12:30. The incident last night had drained her energy, causing her to sleep in.

She pushed open the bedroom door and walked out. Downstairs, Marion was cooking in the kitchen.

The others still seemed to be asleep. Debra spoke up. "Your injury hasn't healed yet, and you're already rushing to make me lunch?"

Marion came out holding a pot. "Go rest a little longer. The other dish will be ready soon."

Debra came down the stairs and flopped into his arms. Her exhaustion instantly melted away.

"I'm so tired. Get a drumstick for me," she murmured.

"Sure," Marion agreed, patting her head.

the

on the embracing couple. Feeling awkward, he looked up at the ceiling and whistled, "Uh, I'm going to

Houston, let me take care of the kitchen," said

without even looking at

as he told Debra, "Wait on the

Debra nodded,

like he didn't know anything about what happened

began to doubt her

was hard to tell if if

behind it all or

entered the house, looking

didn't find the three missing socialites or those

"What about Frederic?"

"Who?"

person who saved

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