“Get her a glass of water.”

  “What?”

  “Get her a glass of water.”

  “Would a please kill you?” The voice didn't respond further, but she hadn't led me astray so far, so I did indeed go to get a glass of ice water for Amy. I intended to hand it to her once she was out of the restroom, but then the voice spoke up right when I was going to put it at one of our server stations.

  “Now.”

  “Alright, alright. Geez, wish you could be this direct about more things.”

  Thankfully, no one noticed me having a conversation with myself, and I was able to hurry into the bathroom just in time to hear an awful retching sound from the furthest stall.

  “Hey, Amy, you alright in here? Your tables are fine, I just brought you a glass of water." I was pretty surprised when the stall door slammed open and there was Amy, holding her stomach and looking grayer than gray. “Are you sick? Do you need to go home?”

  “No, it'll pass in a few minutes. Just smelled something that set me off. Thanks for the water.”

  She gave me a weak smile as she took the glass, and I reached into my server apron to pull out some of the gum that I always kept on hand. “Would you like some? Help get the taste out of your mouth.”

  “Oh my gosh, yes, thank you so much.”

  As I handed the stick to her, I noticed the fizzing sort of warmth still emanating from her. I definitely wasn't imagining it, but I couldn’t figure out what it meant.

  “I wish someone would have warned me that morning sickness is less about the mornings and more about just being sick at the worst times possible.”

  Oh???

  “You're pregnant!” I said it more as a declaration as my mind pieced together all the information, but tried to change my tone into more of a question toward the end of it. It didn't really work, but thankfully, Amy simply raised an eyebrow. I supposed that was the benefit of being the weird coworker. Sometimes I could be a little off and people would just chalk it up to me being me.

  “Yeah. Haven't told many people. Don't want to jinx it, first trimester and all.”

  “I totally understand. You can stay in here as long as you need, or if you want to go outside go ahead. I'll watch your tables for however long you need.”

  “Thanks, Bridges. That's really nice of you.”

  “Hey, we're a team right? Gotta watch out for our newest player. Even if they're kind of in training off the field right now.”

  Amy gave me a little chuckle and I hurried out, mind spinning yet again. Had I sensed that Amy was pregnant? That was the only interpretation I could possibly come up with.

  “You're sensing the possibilities of a life. It’s not quite all there yet. Like Amy mentioned, first trimesters are fragile times, and many people miscarry without even knowing they’re pregnant. But you’re feeling the love she has for what’s growing inside of her, and all the paths of what could be branching out from it.”

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  I swallowed hard. Because wow, that was a thought and a half. It felt a bit invasive, like I’d purposefully spied on Amy, but at the same time it wasn’t like I could help it. I probably would have never pieced it together if the voice hadn’t told me to get her water.

  I shook my head.

  …just wow. What a truly was a wondrous idea. But like with every lovely thing, I couldn't help but wonder if there was a price.

  “And if she was to miscarry, would I feel that too? If we were to stay in close proximity to each other?”

  “Potentially. So early, it would likely be more of a temperature shift than anything else. But as time passes, and the connection between her and her baby grows, the impact also increases. It can feel a bit like… like sinking into sand or being pulled by a current. I would not describe it as pleasant, although of course it’s much worse for the mother. Losing a wanted pregnancy is a…” The voice cut off for a moment and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was remembering something. The pain within her words felt more real than any other emotion I’d felt from her. But the moment was over almost before it began. “It is a singular experience I would not wish on anyone.”

  I wanted to ask so many questions about that, but I knew it wasn’t my business. So I shifted to another pressing question forcing its way to the front of my mind. “Do… do we reap babies?”

  I thought back to the swirling vortex I saw in the dead offices. It had been wondrous, but there had been sort of a peacefulness too. A final journey at the end of a long road. But a baby? A baby hadn't even gotten to start their path yet. There was no grand curtain call at the end of a production.

  “Babies are complicated, to be honest. They can’t choose a god; they’re not old enough to understand the concept of worship and can't dedicate themselves. We don't reap them, as there seems to be natural processes that recycles their energy into whatever it is that makes a soul a soul.”

  “Wait, are you telling me that although reapers whole jobs have to do with souls, none of you actually know where souls come from? Or what makes them?”

  “No, it’s—”

  “Who are ya talking to?”

  That was Amy, who was looking a bit pinker as she exited the bathroom, empty cup in hand. I was glad that the water had helped her, but I had thought It would take her a bit longer to down it.

  “Oh, just myself. You know how it goes, some of the best conversation you have all day.”

  “Ha, yeah, I know that's right. I'm gonna head back to my tables.”

  “No problem. Let me know if you need any help for the rest of the shift.”

  “Will do!”

  I wished that was the only weird thing in my perception, but it turned out that was just the beginning. When my next table came in, I couldn’t help but notice pale, shimmery echoes following a couple who came in. They were all smiles and there was no temperature shift around them, so I couldn’t really puzzle what was going on and the voice offered no explanation.

  Then, when I went to the back of house to run some food when Amy had the order up for her one party of seven rambunctious freshmen, I noticed a strange sort of aura around Boogers. It wasn’t malevolent, or even that flashy, but there was definitely something there that I couldn’t put my finger on.

  I desperately wanted to ask the voice about it, but we got hit with the midnight rush that always came after the last movies ended at the dollar-theater down the road, and suddenly things picked up a bit more. It was frustrating, but it was hard to be too mad when my tips went up from seven to twelve dollars an hour up to somewhere in the twenties. Sure, some people would stiff me, but most wouldn’t. The late night diner crowd tended to value their servers, especially if they were travelers.

  …or be belligerently drunk. Thankfully we hadn’t had one of those incidents on my past couple shifts. I hated those because not only were they a ton of drama that usually involved me not getting tips, but they allowed any unscrupulous guests to dine and dash way more easily. Again, thankfully most guests would clear out of the way or even help, but there were always a couple of people that would take advantage of any situation.

  But, despite the sudden increase in traffic as well as the multiple revelations my conscious was wrestling with, I found my rhythm and settled into it. Despite everything that was happening, I felt much more assured about actually being able to make rent, even with my extraneous spending from earlier in the day. Who knew, if my luck kept up, there was a possibility that I would be able to deposit twenty or thirty dollars into savings at the end of the month. Not exactly a staggering amount, but it was so much better than a big fat zero.

  But, of course, things changed at two-forty-five AM.