It’s becoming clearer and clearer that Rolando isn’t cut out for this job as a Death-Cast herald. He’ll see how he feels by the end of the night, but if this doesn’t work out, he expects he’ll return to guidance counseling in public schools to help identify any child’s issue that’s resulting in their grades dropping or acting out in the classroom. Sometimes it was grief, and Rolando was always confused why a parent would neglect to inform him or the child’s teachers so they could all be mindful of any behavioral shifts. Rolando excelled at being there for the students. He created spaces for them to cry. He supervised them in the gym so they could blow off some steam. He gave them time to process their loss. That last one is not a luxury afforded to Deckers. They must simply process their own impending deaths in a single moment so the heralds can keep it moving.

He believed having a heart would be a strength for this position, but maybe ripping his own out of his chest would be better for everyone, himself included. If he doesn’t have a heart, then that means it can’t be broken.

One hour in and he’s coming undone.

How could he not?

Rolando’s first and longest call was to an elderly man, who awoke to his alert in confusion and fear, thinking this was all a dream. As the Decker, Clint Suarez, came to understand his reality, it broke Rolando. Clint was so lonely that he just wanted to tell his life story to anyone, even the very someone who was predicting his death. So Rolando listened and listened to Clint’s story of a dancing career both lived and unlived, and recommended he put on his favorite song and dance one final time before they hung up. How was a call with an eighty-seven-year-old so hard? Rolando’s expecting Clint will die of old age, but what if he has a heart attack while dancing? Is that Rolando’s fault? Is it Death-Cast’s? Is that how he was always destined to die?

He has no answers, and no time to try and find them.

After being scolded by his boss twenty minutes ago, Rolando is trying to move faster through his calls. But how do you not stay on the line with a nineteen-year-old girl whose whole life was ahead of her? Or feel compelled to call a man over and over when he’s not answering the phone, hoping the Decker didn’t die before Rolando could reach him?