I glance at my phone. I haven’t checked it since I went back onstage for my last set.
A text from Harrison.
Thank God. He made it home.
He left his phone there, so the fact that he’s texting means he’s okay.
And… Wait. Oh my God.
He didn’t have his phone on him when I threw him out of the ladies’ restroom. He didn’t have his wallet either. The shorts the male waitstaff wear have no pockets in them.
But he somehow made it home. Maybe he walked over to the hospital, had Dinah get him a ride home.
I unlock my phone and read the text.
Made it home safe. Let me know how you are.
A sigh of relief escapes me.
Harrison’s okay. His heart is still beating in his chest.
Same can’t be said for countless other innocents, thanks to my sister.
But he’s all right.
For now.
I quickly text him back. Better keep things vague in case anyone is tapping into our messages.
I’m okay. Will be leaving Aces soon.
I feel terrible, throwing him out on the street wearing next to nothing. But I still think he was safer out there than he was in here.
I’ve never felt unsafe at Aces.
In many ways it’s been my sanctuary.
I’ve never been head over heels in love with my position here, but it’s better than working a nine to five. I’m getting paid a living wage to sing, to perform. It wasn’t exactly what I envisioned when I first got off that plane in NYC all those years ago, but it’s a hell of a lot closer to the dream than a lot of people get.
I’ve worked here nearly five years. The Reflections callback was in early summer, and I started at Aces soon after that.
I’ve seen so many people come and go. I’ve made very few friends here—the one time I tried to do so, it failed catastrophically—because of how impermanent everything is. Once a server fulfills their contract, they go off into the world.
Or so I thought.
Just like the waitstaff at Rouge’s other clubs, we never see them again.
And now I know why.
A cooler of human hearts hidden away is damning evidence, but I have no hard proof that they’re connected to the disappearances. It could be circumstantial. They could have been planted.
But how the fuck is a cooler full of hearts circumstantial?
Ugh. But how can I know for sure?
I almost slap myself in the face when I realize how simple it is.
Harrison works in a hospital. The same hospital Rouge sits on the board of.
