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"And I don't know what to do to stop it, either!" I finish on a semi-hysterical note two hours later, having taken the rest of the afternoon off from work by pleading a bad headache. Kent extends an arm across the table to squeeze my free hand, the one that's not currently clutching my second glass of whisky like a lifeline. I lift it to my lips and down the rest of it in one, then raise it shakily toward the bar. Dave nods and walks over with the bottle, topping me up with a stiff double. Kent and I are back at the gang's bar, the safest place to talk outside the villa itself. I'd called him frantically outside the restaurant, begging him to meet me here as soon as he could. Roger went back to work after giving me the rest of the details he'd overheard, and I'd grabbed a cab. It's