I hesitate, but Max drags it open and steps through. The bed is rumpled and unmade. An empty whiskey bottle lies on the floor. And sitting in a wooden chair before a hearth is Brian, wearing a plush, gray robe embossed in gold with his initials. He looks at us, finishes off his whiskey, and sets the rocks glass on a side table. His face is drunken red. Firelight flickers on the walls.
OH MY GOD LIKE THE START OF THE GAME
