Page 47 of Requiem & Reverie

“And … nothing on Oliver … yet?”

The sound of his name outside of home feels strange to me. Wrong. Not like Dale hasn’t asked about Oliver before, but the circumstances leave me somewhat defensive. Fighting to hold back tears.

“Nothing yet.” I clear my throat and divert my undoubtedly red-rimmed eyes that suddenly sting.

“Just crazy that he up and left like that, you know?” He rubs his jaw and shakes his head. “Doesn’t make sense. Well, you learn something, you be sure to tell us.”

I breathe a sigh, as Shay saunters up to give me a quick squeeze. “I will. Just wanted to get some fresh air and pick up my stub.”

“Sure. I’ll go grab that.”

With a nod, I lean against the counter and dare myself to look at the others around me. The normal people. The ones who don’t go to bed every night wondering if their child is still alive. If they’re still considered a family. Or human, for that matter. That’s when I catch sight of Simon, sitting in his usual booth. On instinct, I check the time, noting it’s his usual.

He gives a slight smile and waves.

Pushing off the counter, I shove my hands into the pocket of my jeans and make my way over to his booth.

“Hey … Nola. I … I heard about Oli. Gosh, you must be so worried.”

“Yeah. I’m … I am.”

“I hope they find him soon.”

“Me, too.” Breathing hard through my nose, I frown and clear my throat to dismiss the tug of my heart. “Hey, have you seen, or heard, anything about Beth and Harv?”

“No. No, I haven’t. It’s been … quiet around here.”

I glance around the restaurant at the patrons, any one of which could end up on the news this week. “All these people missing … just isn’t right.”

“What about Jonah? Does he have any leads? Any ideas? I mean, about this killer. The Sandman.”

“They think he might be a surgeon, or something.”

“A surgeon? Wow, that’s … impressive.”

My eyes narrow on his, and an unbridled anger burns inside of me. “Nothing about that bastard is impressive. He’s pathetic. Disgusting!”

His eyes flicker, and he lowers his gaze. “I’m sorry, Nola. I didn’t know you felt so strongly.”

“There’s a chance he might have my son. And if he does? I’ll happily watch him burn.”

Simon shifts in his seat, and I realize I’ve let the conversation get away from me. Exactly the reason I shouldn’t have left the house yet.

“I heard he … prefers women.”

“Well, I heard he doesn’t,” I snap, but not as harsh-toned as before, trying to reel it in a little.

“Your brother must be a very reliable source.”

Ignoring him, I rub the back of my neck in an effort to calm some of my frustration. I don’t mean to take it out on others, after all. “Anyway, if you hear from those two, Beth and Harv, please tell me, okay, Simon? I’m worried sick about them.”

“Of course. And, uh … same to you. If you hear anything, you’ll be sure to let me know?”

“Yes.”

Dale strolls up to the booth, handing me a white envelope that feels slightly thicker than usual. “Sorry, Nola. Got a call. Here’s your stub. And I threw in a few bucks, since you haven’t worked much this week.”

“Jesus, Dale. Really, I’m okay. I can’t take this money.”