At ten, someone brought out small plastic horns and handed them around. A few employees tried them once, winced at the sound, then laughed. Someone offered one to Timothy.
He took it, looked at it like it was a piece of equipment, then put it on the table without using it.
Hana watched from across the room and walked over.
"You are refusing joy," she said.
"I am refusing that sound," Timothy replied.
Hana picked up the horn and blew it once, directly beside him.
Timothy flinched and leaned away.
Hana smiled, satisfied, then handed the horn to someone else and walked away like she had completed a task.
Timothy stood still for a moment, then shook his head once, like he was resetting.
Carlos wandered back over, holding two paper cups. He offered one to Timothy.
Timothy looked at it. "What is it."
"Punch," Carlos said. "Non-alcoholic. Relax."
Timothy took it and sipped. It was too sweet. He did not comment.
Carlos leaned against the table. "Hana is dangerous tonight."
