C86 ICE EIGHTY-SIX: STRIKING RESEMBLANCE.

THANE'S POV:

The amber liquid burned its way down my throat. Fourth glass, maybe fifth. I’d lost count hours ago. The whiskey bottle on the counter had become my only reliable companion lately. I adjusted my cufflinks, straightened my jacket, and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Same tired eyes staring back that forgot how to feel anything. But tonight