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“Hell yes.”

Hours later, I’m bouncing in my seat at the bar as Rizlan, the dragon shifter who doubles as Fast Glass’s bouncer and bartender, belts out “Under Pressure” by Queen and David Bowie. He’s very off-key, but his air guitar is entertaining enough to balance it out.

Rizlan is one of the most eligible bachelors in town due to his undeniably rugged yet accessible beauty, his ability to hold down a steady job, and how unseriously he takes himself. I’m surprised he’s still single.

“Another, please,” I ask Natalie as I slide my empty glass across the bar. They’ve added something called Harvest Punch to their drink menu, and I can’t seem to drink it fast enough. This will be my third in under an hour, and I already have that loose, tingly feeling in my limbs. It’s going to be a good night. “What is this, anyway?”

Natalie smirks as she leans in. “It’s basically a Dirty Shirley with apple cider. And the amount of vodka is obscene.” She looks over her shoulder at Dominic, the owner, who’s mixing an old-fashioned a few feet away. “Don’t tell anyone. I’m not supposed to reveal the recipe, but since you’re the mayor…”

“You’re not legally required to share your secrets with me, you know,” I tell her with a laugh. “But I’m not mad about it.”

As I’m taking a big ol’ swig, Abe says, “You’re drinking this punch at an alarming speed. Perhaps you should slow down.”

I shake my head as the vodka leaves a burning trail down my throat. “Nope. I’ve had a stressful day, Karaoke Night is something Ezra and I used to love coming to together, and I plan to honor them by getting shit-canned and singing “Time After Time” by Cyndi Lauper at the top of my lungs, just as they would if they were here.”

Abe keeps his face pinched in concern as he crosses his arms over his expansive chest. He’s still standing because he refuses to sit down next to me, making me feel even more alone in this crowded bar.

I ignore him as I get up and make my way over to the signup sheet next to the stage and add my song choice. There are two ahead of me, so I return to my seat and suck down the rest of my punch while I wait my turn. As I take the opportunity to people-watch, I’m filled with overwhelming pride, followed immediately by despair. Pride at how full Dominic’s bar is on a weeknight, not only those here to sing but also to eat dinner and enjoy the meals on the expanded menu created by his mate, Lindsay. There are couples and families and groups of friends huddled together, and each face is one I’ve known for years. The despair comes with the knowledge that Ezra is missing this moment, this view of our little town we’ve worked so hard to improve.

They should be here. Not in a coma and stuck in an unflattering hospital gown under even less flattering lighting.

It should’ve been me.

The thought isn’t new as it pops into my head, and because of its familiarity, I let it stick. If Ezra hadn’t covered my body with theirs that day in the portal, maybe we both would’ve landed in the hospital but with minor injuries. Maybe I would’ve protected them instead, and I’d be the one in a coma, or dead. All I know for sure is I wouldn’t feel as awful as I do right now.

“And next up, we have our wonderful mayor! Madam Mayor, please make your way to the stage,” Vyla, the orc bartender, calls out from the microphone.

I gesture to Natalie for a punch refill as I hop off my stool. Abe follows close behind and morphs into a rigid statue as he stands just to my right on the stage. “This is for Ezra,” I say into the mic. As the song begins, I close my eyes and block out everything else. The lyrics float out of me at an impressive pitch considering how buzzed I am, but I’ve sung this song a million times before, so it comes as easily as my next breath.

The crowd starts to cheer as I get into my body and start moving across the stage. I’m swaying and twirling and pretending Ezra is right here with me. Just two goofy kids watching MTV and dancing around my parents’ basement again.

The song ends to rabid applause, and I can’t help but bask in it for a minute. There are so many reasons to feel hopeless right now, but when I’m looking out into a sea of familiar faces cheering me on, I briefly forget every one of them.

Abe offers me his hand after I bow and wave to the crowd. I take it and let him guide me back to my stool. Before I reach it, I spot Ilana at the end of the bar, grabbing a takeout bag from Rizlan. Ilana and Ezra have been together just over two years, and they moved in together about six months ago.

The two of us are on a group text chain about Ezra’s status, but she and I haven’t spoken since the attack. By the disgusted look on her face as she stomps toward me, I have a feeling my happy moment is over.

“Seriously, Emma?” she asks, putting a hand on her hip. “Ezra’s getting their nutrients from a tube so they don’t starve to death, and you’re here getting drunk on Karaoke Night like nothing has changed?”

She must’ve just arrived and didn’t see that I dedicated the song to Ezra. That it was Ezra’s go-to song. “No, Ilana, it’s not like th––”

“Really?” she asks, cutting me off with a sneer. “Because you look like you’re having an absolute blast. Meanwhile,” she holds up the bag of food, “I just left the hospital to pick up my dinner. I’m going back there so I can eat it by Ezra’s bedside. Because I actually give a shit about them.” She turns, but not before shaking her head at me disapprovingly, then storms out of the bar.

I’m not sure how long I stand there with my mouth hanging open, but it feels like a long time. So long, I forget Abe is even here until he gives my shoulder a light touch.

“She should not have spoken to you like that,” he says. If his teeth were real, I’d tell him to stop grinding them.

“It’s fine,” I reply, downing half of my punch. “She’s right.” I haven’t done my part when it comes to Ezra. I’ve gone to the hospital three times to visit them, and two of those times I immediately left because I saw Ilana sitting by their bedside and had no idea what to say. She gave me this look outside the portal right before the ambulance took Ezra away that made me feel like she blamed me for the attack. That it was all my fault. That it should’ve been me instead.

I can’t argue.

“She’s not right,” Abe says, cutting through my thoughts. His reptilian gaze is narrowed and swirling with a level of anger I didn’t think him capable of, certainly not on my behalf, anyway. “You call the hospital each morning before we leave the house. I’ve seen it. To suggest you don’t care is incomprehensible.”

“Ilana spends every possible moment she has at the hospital, so compared to that, of course it seems like I don’t give a shit.”

He shakes his head. “You’re also a target, and you’re constantly on edge that another attack is coming. Why are you taking the side of a woman who yelled at you in public?”

I down the rest of my punch and drop a wad of twenties on the bar. “Leave it alone, Abe.” I’m not about to fight with him after the Ilana encounter. I don’t have it in me. At this point, I just want to go home, lay in bed, and watch the ceiling spin until the booze wears off.