Once the air had circulated, the windows of the bar pulled shut against the biting cold.
The streets outside were nearly empty; the extreme frost had driven everyone indoors. Inside, the bar was quiet, the few customers present nursing their drinks in hushed tones. Most were likely waiting for the clock to strike nine, when piano lady Caroline usually began her performance.
"Yes, Caroline. I understand."
As if echoing my thoughts, Samantha took a call at the end of the bar.
I was busy organizing the scattered menus, but I couldn't help but watch her face as it creased with worry.
"Yes, okay... get plenty of rest," she said, hanging up with a heavy sigh.
"This is a mess. Caroline caught the flu. She's completely bedridden and can't make it tonight."
"But isn't there a scheduled performance?" I asked, a small gasp escaping me.
I knew some of our regulars came specifically for her music.
