She weaved toward the kitchen and opened the fridge—a major train wreck in there—packed with science projects such as muffins covered with dots of green mold and worse. Even under refrigeration it reeked. Several beers; no interest. Instead she pulled out a carton of orange juice previously opened and closed by filthy fingers, four strips of bacon left in a package, a cardboard crate with a couple of eggs in it. In the freezer she found half a pack of frozen hash browns. She also grabbed a jar of instant coffee from a cupboard. Whose place was this?