I closed my eyes to place the voice, but that simple movement sparked a rush of pain all over again. The left side of my face throbbed, and my vision on that side was seriously wonky. Much, much slower than normal, my legs received the message to support my weight. I stood using the back of a dead Senate member's chair for support.

It hadn't been a semi-truck that had smashed into my face at all. It had been a heavy silver tray, held by none other than my boss at The Bean Dream, ...