Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

The previous night was a bit out of hand. Cliff insisted on keeping the party going even after they'd all had more than enough.

When the driver dropped Murray off at his mansion, dawn was breaking. He had barely crashed onto his bed, the wave of sleepiness overwhelming, but he forced himself to stagger to the bathroom for a quick shower.

'Maybe Roseanne won't chew me out?' In his groggy state, Murray wondered.

He woke up again, this time to pain.

"Damn..." he groaned, clutching his stomach as he rolled out of bed.

"My stomach is killing me! Anne..." He stopped mid-sentence, a frown creasing his brow. Roseanne held a grudge this time, more than in their last fight.

'Fine, let's see how long she can keep this up. But where are the meds?' Murray ransacked the living room, checking every possible storage space, but couldn't find the emergency medicine kit.

He called Sadie.

Sadie answered the phone. "You're looking for antacids? They're in the medicine box."

Murray's temples throbbed as he took a deep breath. "And where is that?"

drawer in your bedroom's walk-in closet. Ms. Cole said you often have stomach issues after drinking, so she ensured to stock up

with his usual array of

caught his eye. All of Roseanne's jewelry, designer bags, and everything was still there except for all her documents like her ID, passport, and diplomas. Everything was gone. And one of the suitcases that

frozen, rage

times,

'The more you pamper

then, he heard the front door open. Murray immediately headed downstairs. "What are you

taking off her shoes, looking up in surprise.

the sofa, uninterested. "What do you want? Something

stomach issues again. So, here I am, sent by our dear mom to check on my beloved brother." As she spoke, Hertha headed toward the kitchen, "I haven't had lunch yet and figured I might

a good impression of Roseanne was her cooking

half a minute, she asked curiously, "Murray, why does it look like a ghost kitchen here? Where's

have prepared a meal, waiting for Murray to come down, and if luck were on Hertha's side,

Murray massaged his temples, wishing

emerged from the kitchen. "Is Roseanne feeling unwell? I saw

her at the hospital?"