Bourbon Street with part of the other brass section. Later on we ran into part of the drumline. So there was a big group of us, like twelve or so. We were just drinking and dancing. I can’t think of anything we did or anywhere we went specifically. The next thing I remember is waking up to cowbell noise.”

“And those twelve or so,” Sayeva prodded, “are the ones who aren’t doing so well today?”

“They all seem to have food poisoning or something. Except me. It’s weird.” Mercy shrugged.

That was not the entire story. As a journalist, Sayeva had a well-bred annoyance for not getting the entire story. “You’ve stopped me because your friends picked up food poisoning on Bourbon Street? I’m sorry, sweetie, but in this city, w...

Please subscribe to keep reading.