Den

My head hurt more than it ever had. I stumbled out of the den and down the hallway, trying to navigate the narrow space without knocking the cutesy pictures of Mrs. Benning's children off the walls. I didn't realize she had also managed to stagger to her feet and was a mere two feet behind me with the crystal cigar tray I had picked out for her husband only a few weeks ago clenched tightly in her hand.

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