F O R T Y - S E V E N

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The metallic scent of diaper rash cream filled the entire room. It was after hours and the daycare was clear of children but the evidence of them still lingered. The toys spilled in a corner. Bright green cubbies with a single tiny sweater still hanging there. The place looked cozy and well taken care of. Sid sat on the couch across from Chante who was busying herself with absolutely anything she could. Right now it was vacuuming even though the multicolored rug was spotless. Sid watched as Chante went over it again. And again.

"Chante...can we talk?" Sid shouted over the vacuum. She was sure Chante could hear her but she reached the end of the carpet and just swung around again, going back to the same patch of bright red carpet that she had just vacuum. Sid huffed and stood up, striding over to the wall she yanked the vacuums cord out of the outlet. As the vacuum whirred to a slow hum and then silence Sid watched Chante's back.

"You've always been rude." Chanted quipped as she gave up and wrapped the vacuums cord up. After she finally stowed the whole thing away in a closet, Sid sat back down on the couch and this time Chante followed. Sid slid the backpack off of her shoulders and unzipped it, pulled the bag with the money was out, and placed it on the small desk next to the couch. Chante looked at it but left it where it was.

"That's from Kru."

"I know who it's from." Chante's acrylic nails were cut low. Manageable to deal with the smallest of kids, Sid imagined. She watched as she picked at those nails. The usual flow of words, her super chatty demeanor stifled by the presence of Sid and that bag of money.

"How did he get to you?" Sid asked choosing her words carefully. Not asking how Chante got involved with him because no one got involved with Kru. He found you. Got to you. Infiltrated every part of your life until you think he controls the very blood that courses through your veins. Your happiness. Your life seemed to be in his grips.

"I leased the space here a few months back and had everything ready to go but on my last inspection, the department of health flagged a bunch of stuff. The refrigerators and there weren't enough sinks. Random shit. I really think they do that to try to discourage business owners. I'm trying to help single moms like me. Who gives a fuck about how many sinks there are?" Chante's hands were waving all over the place. Her frustration was rising again as if the Health Inspector was knocking on the door at this very moment. Sid nodded and stayed quiet.

"I'd spent all my damn money. Didn't have another penny left but if I didn't fix this stuff they wouldn't clear me to open." Chante looked at Sid for the first time since she crossed the threshold. "I needed to open, Sid."

"He gave you the money to fix the stuff and now you clean money for him." Sid finished what Chante could not say and watched the tears fill in her friend's eyes.

"I thought it would only be one time. But every week there's more and more." The tears were spilling now. The false lashes that were framing her large almond eyes were limp under the moisture. Chante grabbed a nearby tissue and dabbed at them only to dislodge a lash from its place. "Fuck." She mumbled. Sid looked away thinking of all the times she fell apart and how she wished people would give her the dignity to look away. Chante blew her nose into a tissue.

"Why are you here though, Sid? With money from Kru no less?"

With the spotlight now turned on her Sid stood and began to track across the carpet that Chante had just cleaned within an inch of its life. Her first instinct was to be vague. Say that she just got tied up in some stuff and was trying to fix it. But after seeing Phil's battered body. Baring her soul in front of Aiden. And talking with Ahsan about dreams slipping away she couldn't find it in herself to be vague. They were all in it. In this violent, ugly, heartbreaking tragedy of reality. They couldn't afford to play coy or have secrets. That's where Kru lived, in shadow and secrets and Sid didn't want to be anywhere near that place. She'd had enough of that.

"I got an eviction notice. I lost my job. And I have AJ, you know..." The words fought against her. They were used to being unsaid and kicked and screamed as she pushed them into the light. "I stole some money from Phil's stash spot. I didn't know it belonged to Kru."

Chante moaned as if she could feel Sid's pain and rested her forehead against her knees. Tears leaped from Sid's own eyes seeing that. Someone be so affected by her misfortune and pain. She crossed back over to the sofa and sat down. Her body leaned against Chante and Chante lifted her head to support Sid's slacking frame.

"He killed my dad, Chante. Kru. It was him. He admitted it."

"Oh my god."

"And now he has Phil...he'll kill him if I don't make these drops."

"Did you? Did you do them all? Sid, you have to!" Chante was panicked. The gravity of it all hit her like a freight train.

"I did. You are the last. I don't know what to do Chante." Sid was back in her own head dealing with the realization that she had no guarantee that Kru would actually let Phil go. She could do everything he says and it wouldn't stop him from killing Phil. He was the game master here. Kru set the rules.

Chante reached into the pocket of her sundress and pulled out her cell phone. She typed away rapidly and waited. Soon her phone dinged and she looked at Sid.

"I just texted Frenchie to let her know you did the drop."

"You think he'll let him go?" Sid asked Chante.

"I...it's his brother," Chante said. It was a hope that Sid had but she couldn't entirely hang her hat on. Chante hadn't seen Phil all crumbled on that bathroom floor. His face almost unrecognizable. But Sid just nodded and chose to take the hope that Chante had offered to her.

"I've got to get to the bank before it closes. I hate having this stuff in here." For the first time, Chante wrapped her hands around the crumpled paper bag. Sid watched as she went into the desk and pulled out some bank slips and other cash.

"You want to come with me? I can make you some dinner afterward. You look exhausted, girl."

Sid pulled out her phone and checked the time.

"I have to get to work." Sid was exhausted but being back in the kitchen would feel as close to normal as she had in a while. She needed it.

"Ok." Sid trailed behind Chante to the front door. When they stepped outside the world felt different to Sid. She'd been so focused on getting this task done. Having something driving her, something that she could physically do to quiet the negative whispers in her head. But now that it was done all she had left to do was wait. This marked her entering a new hell.

"Let me know if you hear anything. Or if you see Phil. Please?" Sid asked Chante as they were about to part ways.

"Of course." Sid nodded and headed off down the block toward her car. She couldn't help looking in all the dark corners as the sunset dipped below the horizon. Couldn't help imagine Phil in all of them, bleeding, needing help from someone. Needing her.

***

Sid felt satisfaction as she dropped her tempura-battered shrimp into the fryer. Watching the flour bloom in the hot oil she closed her eyes and let the gentle crackling sound vibrate somewhere in her soul.

"Umm, Sid? You okay?" Nissan was next to her, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere.

"Yeah, sorry. Just being a food weirdo. What's up?"

"I get it. I get the same way when I shuck corn. Something about hearing the tearing sound." He closed his eyes and Sid smiled. "But now everyone does this microwave business. It's easier and faster, yeah, but that sound...you know?"

Sid did know. She completely understood hearing food and having it make you happy.

"Anyway, just checking in. Have you given my offer any thought?" Nissan asked with expectant eyes. Sid pulled her lips in. She'd forgotten all about his offer. A new restaurant in Massachusetts. All the details seemed like they were from a time long ago instead of just three days ago. It all seemed foreign to her and impossible with her life falling apart. But she put on a competent smile, not letting on.

"Still mulling it over."

"Yeah, it would be a big change. Take your time. Take your time. But in the meantime, look." Nissan whipped out his phone and after a few taps handed it over to Sid. Her eyes balked.

"Is that a brick oven? It's the size of my apartment." The oven was outside flanked by beautiful wooden tables and chairs. Lights strung around a vine wrapped pergola. She sighed and pulled the phone closer.

"Just installed it today. Get that authentic taste fresh out of the oven and onto the tables."

"It looks amazing. They're going to flip over this." Sid reluctantly gave the phone back to him as Nissan beamed, filled up by her approval. His brusque and serious look evaporating for a moment. At that moment they both sniffed what smelled like burnt ocean. Sid looked into the fryer to see that her shrimp tempura were hard crisps. She cursed and lifted them out.

"I'll take the blame for those just this time. But a chef always keep an eye on the food no matter what's going on." He threw her wink and was off to wherever.

She quickly battered up some more shrimp and dropped a fresh batch into the fryer while the image of that brick oven rolled through her mind.

"Sid!" Someone shouted from the far side of the kitchen near the office. Can a girl fry in peace?

"What?" She shouted back.

"Phone." Sid took the shrimp out of the fryer. "Hey, get the rest of these in for me?" Sid called the cook who she saved from the beef over and quickly subbed in. She dusted stray flour off her hands as she picked up the phone.

"Sidney." She said.

"Hi, Sid. It's Christina. From the front desk." Sidney recognized that tiny voice anywhere.

"Okay. Is everything alright?"

"Can you...come? Please." Sid's stomach dropped.

"Yeah. I'm coming." She snuck out of the kitchen and made her way across the hotel corridors to the front desk where Christina, usually very formal and composed immediately grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the office.

"What's going on?" Sid asked but her answer was given immediately. She rushed over to a large luggage cart that sat in the middle of the room.

"The bellman found him on the ground outside. This is the guy from before right? I recognized him so we brought him back here." Christina's voice shook with nervousness.

"Call me a car, please," Sid asked. Christina didn't move quickly enough. "Now! Please!" Christina grabbed a nearby phone and began to dial as Sid lifted Phil's head into her lap. Underneath a smattering of purple and black bruises, she could make out his face. She pulled him off of the cart and he groaned. His shirt stained with blood. The same shirt she had brought him days ago. His closed hadn't been changed since they took him. He was soiled all over.

"Phil? It's me. Phil. Talk to me. Talk..." She groaned as his head lolled to the side and blood poured from his mouth onto the carpet. Tears pooled in her eyes and dropped onto his dirty shirt as she watched his chest stop rising and falling. She shook him. Kept shaking him until he pulled in another strained breath. She buried her head against his chest and heard the faint struggled beating of his heart. She closed her eyes and prayed. She prayed it wouldn't stop before help came. 

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