I'm sitting with my back straight against the couch. Frank finds himself right in front of me, sitting on a chair. 

He told me my body is hurting so much because it was exposed to such low temperatures and extreme stress. It went in shock. Now, he's checking if it didn't leave any nerve damage. He asked to lay my hand in his and to move my fingers one by one, while he explains what happened. 

"Last night, at that guy's party, I left you alone for some time. Like you said, you don't need a babysitter." 

We exchange looks. You're not so sure about that now, after what happened last night, aren't you? 

"When I checked up on you, I saw you holding yourself up against a wall. Some drunk kid had wrong intentions, so I sat him down on the ground." He lays my hand around four of his fingers. "Squeeze my hand as hard as you can." I do what he asks, but I find it difficult. I haven't got my strength back. 

"Good." He gives me back my hand and takes the other. "Same thing. Move your fingers one by one." 

I silently obey while he continues his explanation. 

"We left after that." 

I nod. "I remember." I'm done moving my fingers, so I squeeze his hand again. 

"I thought you were drunk. As I said, I didn't keep an eye on you all the time." He pauses. "Which I regret." He holds my hand a bit longer than necessary, before letting go. He looks at the ground with guilt. 

I feel sorry for him. None of this was his fault. I was the one who wanted him gone. He couldn't make that happen, but he let me have fun at the party. He disappeared for some time, just as I wanted. Maybe I shouldn't give him such a hard time. 

"Give me your leg." 

"What?" 

He looks a bit frustrated because I'm making it awkward. "I need to check your feet as well." 

"Oh. Of course." I raise my right leg so he can grab my foot. 

"When we got home, I thought I knew for sure you got drunk at the party." 

"I never get drunk." I say defensively. He's silent for a while. I know he wants to apologise, but he's too stubborn. Or too proud. Maybe both. 

"Move your toes."

 I do what he asks as he tells about how I went upstairs after I refused to drink the beverage he made. It would've helped against a hangover apparently. 

"I stayed downstairs after you went to your room. Around thirty minutes later, you rushed down in a panic. You ran outside and after I quickly checked for intruders, I went after you into the woods." He puts down my leg and reaches for the other one. "You ran like hell, it was difficult to keep up. But I eventually did and after you calmed down, I used a flashlight to check your eyes." I move my toes, just as I did with my previous foot.

He puts down my leg after it passed the test as well. "Your pupils were dilated. Someone gave you lsd." 

My mouth slightly opens. "What?" 

Frank folds his hands. "Someone at the party drugged you." 

Why would anyone do that? No, it must've been an accident. 

He stands up and heads for the kitchen. 

"Frank, how could something like that happen?" 

He returns with a small plate of rice and vegetables. "Someone put the drug in your drink when you weren't paying attention." He hands it over. "Or someone gave you a cup with the drug already in it." 

My stupidity hits me like a punch in the stomach. I cover my face with my hand. Victoria's mysterious brother, he was the only one who gave me a drink. How could I've been so careless? So damn stupid? 

Frank folds his arms and respectfully holds his mouth shut. 

I know he's thinking the same thing about me, but he doesn't share it out loud. Instead, he points at the plate. 

"Eat something, Giselle."