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... was spinning, a whirling mess of half-formed thoughts and champagne bubbles. I had let my problems lure me into one too many glasses of the effervescent stuff. It had seemed like a good idea—when wasn't drinking away your sorrows the most sensible course of action?—until the room started to blur around the edges. The grand chandeliers overhead turned into fuzzy halos, and the elegant string quartet's music became a distant hum. I could hear the murmurs of the wealthy guests around me, but their ...

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