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Chapter 125: Robert's Dead Ends

The bottle. Half empty. Or half full. Robert didn't know. Didn't care. Just drank.

Whiskey. Expensive. Top shelf. Aged thirty years. Meaningless. All meaningless. Tasted like nothing. Like ash. Like failure.

He sat. In his study. Dark. Curtains drawn. Alone. Alex sleeping. Or trying to. In his room. Away from this. From watching his father destroy himself. Slowly. Completely.

Three days. Emma gone three days. Kids gone four. Four days of ...

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