Not wanting to eat, but grateful for something that will delay the inevitable, I take the plate and sit down at the table.
The food is delicious, I'm sure. But I taste nothing.
I force it down anyway.
I am acutely aware of every single person in the room. Their conversations, their movements, their glances in my direction. It feels like I’m on display.
My phone buzzes.
It’s a text from my Head of Security at the casino.
All quiet here. A few journalists sniffing around. We’re handling it. Are you okay?
I’m fine, I text back. Keep me updated.
I put my phone down.
My phone buzzes again.
This time it’s an email from my assistant.
The Board wants to schedule an emergency meeting.
Not a good time. I'll let you know when.
As soon as I set my phone down, it buzzes a third time.
This is getting ridiculous.
I pick it up.
It’s a news alert.
Deadly Shooting at The Regent Club Hotel and Casino.
I click on the link.
The article is a mess of speculation and misinformation. It talks about "an apparent gang-related incident." It mentions "multiple casualties." It has a picture of the casino's entrance, with police cars and flashing lights.
There are no casualties, I want to scream. None who matters anyway. Just the three men who tried to kill me. The ones who shot Adrian. And I'm not exactly broken up about that.
But I can't scream.
So I take a deep breath and put my phone down.
My food is gone.
My coffee is cold.
The trap is set.
And I'm about to walk right into it.
I push my chair back and stand up. I don't bother to announce what I'm doing.
I just walk out of the kitchen and make my way up the stairs, my feet heavy.
The hallway is just as I left it. Dim. Quiet.
