Page 70 of Behind the Bars

“I got you a job at Eve, the rhythm and blues club. You can work as a waitress, and whenever you’re up for it, you have the stage tosing.”

I shook my head. “Why would they hire me without knowing me? They don’t even know if I cansing.”

“Yeah, but they trust me. I used to perform there before my career shifted. You’ll love it. Mia is the owner and one of the best humans in the world. I vouched for you. You start onMonday.”

“You’re too muchgood.”

He laughed and shrugged. “You’re not lying. I just hate that I have to catch a flight back to Los Angeles tonight,” he said as he paid the bill and dusted powdered sugar from his shirt. He was supposed to be with the band as we spoke, but when I’d called him, he’d promised to be there for me when I got back. I knew we wouldn’t have much time to spend together, seeing how he was currently on tour for the next few months, so I treasured every moment he gaveme.

“It’s really okay,” I promised. “You’ve gone above and beyond with everything. I cannottha—”

“If you thank me one more time, I’ll dump all of this sugar on you. Snow White, I’m always here for you, no matter what, because that’s what family does. We showup.”

We stood up and started walking down the streets of the French Quarter. I’d forgotten how much I loved it, the life and energy of New Orleans, from the voodoo shops to the voodoo donuts, from the random human ‘statues’ on Bourbon Street to the live music at allhours.

It felt good to be back, feltright.

“So, we have all day before I gotta get to the airport. Any requests on what you want todo?”

“Well…” My hand wrapped around the key necklace I hadn’t taken off for the past six years. The key a shy boy had given me years back still rested against my skin. “There is onething.”

* * *

“Here we are,”Ray said, pulling up to the house on the corner of Maplewood and Chase. My heart was in my throat as I stared at the red brick home with a freshly mowed lawn and a large oak tree out in front, the branches filled with vibrant green leaves. Ray reached out and touched my shoulder. “You sure you want to do this? Six years is a long time. A lot can change,Snow.”

I nodded. “I know, but still if I don’t find out what happened, it will eat at me everyday.”

I climbed out of the passenger seat of the car and headed up to the front porch. Birds danced along the street, singing their songs of freedom as my heart remained chained to the memories of the boy who’d once seenme.

My fist hovered over the door as my mind battled my soul. My mind told me to run away and leave the past in the past, while my soul reminded me of ElliottAdams.

My heart pounded as I imagined what he’d look like. Was he still the nerdy, skinny boy with thin-framed round glasses? Did he still have his stutter? Did he still smile so gently that his dimple only showed a littlebit?

I finally built up the courage I needed and knocked on the door. Then Iwaited.

Andwaited.

Andwaited.

I glanced back at Ray, who was staring my way with a frown on hislips.

When no one answered, my heart dropped into my gut. I shrugged toward Ray, and started walking back to the car. Just then, I heard the door creak open. “Hello?”

I spun around, my body filling with hope, but it quickly vanished when an older Caucasian gentleman opened the door. “Can I help you?” heasked.

I gave him a tight smile and cleared my throat. “Hi, yeah. I was actually, um, I, well…” My voice was shaking, along with my hands, and the words wouldn’t form at all. I only took a breath when I felt Ray’s hands on my shoulders, giving mecomfort.

“Hi, I’m Ray, and this is my daughter Jasmine. She used to have a friend who lived here. We were wondering if you might know him. Elliott…” Ray looked my way for the lastname.

“Adams,” I said, stillshaking.

The older gentleman lowered his brows and shook his head. “I’m sorry, the last family that lived here moved over five years ago. I’ve been here eversince.”

My heart…itbroke.

“Do you, um, do you have any idea what might have happened to them? Or where they went?” Iasked.

He frowned, rubbing his hand over his bald head. “I’m sorry,no.”

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