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In some cultures, what I do is considered normal.
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As Annaliese watched the French girl grab Sarah's wrist and engage in a silent staring contest, a sense of unease slowly began to creep up on her. Something about this situation started to seem none too kosher. She wondered what she'd stumbled on to this time. Were the girls going to off the poor sleeping dude? Were they playing at being Thelma and Louise? Did that mean at least one of them was gay?

The situation resolved itself totally normally and without bloodshed which made her feel completely paranoid. Her sign wasn't a secretive or paranoid one so what was wrong with her? The only reasonable answer was that her last two group experiences had totally skewed her, making her see conspiracies and hidden motives where none existed. She felt ashamed for even thinking that Sarah would go all Sweeny Todd on that unsuspecting dude.

"I haven't seen him," Annaliese said, trailing off as a thought occurred to her. She wrinkled her nose in confusion.

"Wait, which Maxwell? Lombardi or Crowe? Not that I suppose it makes much of a difference. I haven't seen either one, sorry." She shrugged, trying not to feel like she'd somehow let the other girls down.

"But I guess I could, like, help you guys look for him?"
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