Debra: So, Ray? What do you wanna do this morn- Oh.
Marie: Debra, you look well.
Debra: Thank you.
Marie: Shouldn't you be in bed?
Debra: What are you talking about?
Marie: Raymond said you're sick.
Ray: She was. You are. Last night when I kissed your head, you had a fever. In fact, you could be delirious. This could all be a dream. You should go back to bed right now.