Flight Read Online Free PDF

it’s me,” I reply. She lets out a muffled sob and my heart breaks.
    “Where the hell have you been?” she asks, crying and laughing at the same time. I chuckle, but tears stream down my cheeks as well.
    “Would you believe me if I told you an extended stay on a hot fresh-air beach?” I say. She laughs again, knowing as always that there are things I still can’t tell her.
    “Baby, I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ve been worried,” she replies.
    “I’m okay, Mom. I’m in Ichton now, going to do some contract work for the Corp. Don’t give me shit, you know I don’t have a choice,” I say. There’s a pause, like she’s trying to choose her words carefully.
    “I know. Just keep your head up around them, alright? And call me and let me know that you’re alive more than once a year, okay?” she says. I exhale deeply. Wishing so badly that I was with her right now, to have her hold me again, like when I was little, but the clock’s ticking.
    “I will, I promise,” I say, “love you.”
    “Love you too, Piper,” she replies. I flip my phone shut just as Shelley wanders through the door, black streaks of mascara splotched down her face.
    “You’re home late,” I mention. She waves me off and grunts.
    “You’re up early,” she mutters. I stifle a laugh.
    “Rough night?” I ask. She plops herself onto a kitchen chair and nods.
    “Go big or go home, right? I had a good night, but I need to sleep. You’re coming tonight, right?” she asks. I check my watch. I need to leave.
    “Sorry. Coming where?” I ask as I quickly gather my belongings. Shelley tsks at me.
    “Craig’s concert, asshole. You’d better come,” she warns, but the effect is lost as she yawns deeply.Right. The concert.
    “Did I promise?” I ask. Shelley nods.
    “Yep, I made sure,” she replies.
    “Then I’ll be there, just as soon as today is over with,” I mutter. I leave, closing the door as Shelley calls,
    “Good luck!”
    I’ll need it.

     
    The elevator dings as I reach A8, and I exit with my sunglasses already protecting my eyes. I wear scuffed combat boots, dark pants and an old T-shirt, and I stand out like a sore thumb among the well-groomed, suit-wearing Corp personnel that shy away from me. I feel invisible and neon-bright at the same time. I know no one around me, but I catch their sidelong glances, probably wondering who I am and where I’m from and maybe even if I’m carrying something. I don’t blame them, really.
    I push my way through the crowded halls until I reach the end. An ominous black door appears before me, with more hallways spreading to its right and left. The door’s labeled Myra Elder, Director in large block writing. I take a deep breath before pushing the door open, the raucous sounds from the halls fading quickly into gentle silence. The small lobby is nothing like I’d imagined. When I think of Corp buildings, I picture institutional walls, white paint over concrete and sharp lines governing the sparse furniture. This lobby, however, boasts shining hardwood floors, warm, coffee-tinted walls and vases of red and yellow flowers blooming on every surface. I can’t help but wonder if the flowers are real or not. I eye the front desk secretary, who’s chatting on the phone and paying little attention to me. I kneel over the closest vase and inhale deeply. The sweet fragrance of living flora enters my nose and I shut my eyes. So they’re real. I don’t even want to imagine how much money it cost to have them transported.
    I open my eyes to find the secretary eyeing me suspiciously. She sports a short, dark pixie cut and takes a sip from her coffee mug, gaze never leaving me. I leave the flowers and walk up to the desk.
    “Can I help you?” she asks, her voice laced with a bitter but sugary tone. I look around as if there’s someone here who knows me, but the lobby’s empty.
    “I’m here to see Myra,” I say quickly. I try to picture the old woman in my mind. Even through the