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?"

"In the drawer in your bedroom's walk-in closet. Ms. Cole said you often have stomach issues after drinking, so she ensured to stock up and keep it close by...Hello? Are you still there? Why'd

array of stomach remedies. After

his eye. All of Roseanne's jewelry, designer bags, and everything was still there except for all her documents

frozen, rage bubbling up inside

times,

you pamper women, the bigger their

door open. Murray immediately headed downstairs. "What are you

her shoes, looking up in surprise. "Who

sofa, uninterested. "What

am, sent by our dear mom to check on my beloved brother." As she spoke, Hertha

a good impression of Roseanne was

why does it look like a ghost kitchen here? Where's Roseanne?

Murray to come down, and if luck were on Hertha's

heard Roseanne's name again. Murray massaged his temples, wishing

"Is Roseanne feeling unwell? I saw her at

saw her at the hospital?"

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