Presley took the bottle that healer Moretti handed her. Slowly she sipped it. She was glad that the healer was being so nice, calling her dear and everything. It reminded her of when she had nightmares as a child, and her mum used to call her 'dear.' She tried to finish the bottle, but the thought of ingesting anything seemed so repulsive right now. She was about halfway through when she looked pleadingly at Moretti. "Do I have to drink all of it?"