"Will you harm Debra?"
"Never."
"Mark your words."
Marion wrapped up the talk and left the room.
...
Downstairs, Debra and Erica were chatting with Randy.
When Marion came down, Randy muttered, "What took you so long? Drake's already gone."
Marion hummed in response, uninterested in anything about Drake.
Debra asked, "Did the conversation not go well?"
"Seriously?" Randy sighed. "Even you couldn't get Andrew to talk? That guy must have a mouth of steel."
"Quit rambling nonsense." Erica gave him a light smack on the arm. "After all this chasing around, we still don't know what the treasure is."
"At least we know one thing. Andrew knows the truth, right?" Debra chimed in, looking at Marion for confirmation.
Marion sighed, "If he doesn't want to talk, no one can make it."
"That's true," Randy muttered. "Honestly, who in this world has a tighter mouth than him? No wonder he works in intelligence. He could be the chief of the CIA."
"Would you stop running your mouth?" Erica scolded.
"I'm just telling the truth," Randy grumbled.
Marion commented, "Andrew might be tight-lipped, but you're more slippery."
Debra listened to their banter with amusement.
This kind of life was nice. A few close friends, her love by her side, and lots of laughter.
Yet there were so many schemes around her.
And the hardest part to accept—she seemed to be getting used to it, even if it was exhausting.
...
Melody slowly woke up in bed.
Sophie, who had been keeping watch, noticed her stir and said, "Madam, you're awake. I'll call the doctor right away."
"Call Joe in," Melody murmured.
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