120

"I understand," Tom says in a rough tone. He looks ragged, but with the day's events, this is not unexpected. His eyes are dark and sunken, hair is oily and lays at odd angles, and his button-down shirt, once pure white is a grayish brown with speckles of blood. He locks the cabinet.

"I need to head back to work. I'll stop by later and clear out my personal belongings. I won't be needing these anymore," he says and tosses you the keys as he heads out.