The Recovery Read Online Free PDF

didn’t want one. I got the information and I fed it to the doctor. I erased you. You should hate me,” Realm said, his guilt bubbling up to the surface.
    “Shut up,” James murmured, using the pillow to wipe his face. “Just shut up, Michael.” And with that, James turned toward the wall. Endingthe conversation.

CHAPTER SEVEN
    THE SQUEAKING OF THE SHOWER knob turning on woke Realm up. He looked and found James’s bed empty. Guilt stuck to his skin, and Realm stood and pulled on a clean hoodie before going in search of coffee—a peace offering he could bring to James.
    Realm went outside, surprised that the morning was cool and crisp, the sun hidden behind the clouds. He took the stairs and when he got to the lobby, he was grateful to see a coffeemaker on the small desk against the wall. The manager nodded to him as he entered, but didn’t speak. He was clicking around on his computer, uninterested in the patrons who might wander in at seven in the morning.
    The door opened and Realm turned to find the girl from yesterday, her dark hair gathered in a high bun, her makeup smeared from sleep. When she saw Realm, she smiled, but quickly tried to hide it. Realm turned around and began to empty the powdered creamer into his coffee, trying to dissolve the chunks.
    “Good morning, Michael,” the girl said, reaching in front of himto grab a fresh cup. She smelled lightly of cigarettes and spicy perfume. “You’re up early,” she said, her body still close to his.
    “As are you,” Realm replied. He took a sip from his coffee and tried not to wince at the bitter taste. He grabbed another cup and waited for the girl to finish filling hers before pouring one for James.
    “Job interview,” the girl said, tearing open four packets of sugar at once and dumping them into her coffee. She looked at Realm and grinned. “No way in hell they’re going to hire me, though.”
    “I could be your reference.”
    The girl laughed, and stuck out her hand for him to shake. She had rings on nearly every finger, a brightly colored tattoo wrapped around her wrist. “I’m Corrine,” she said. “Sorry if I was harsh yesterday. Having to call my ex-boyfriend for money isn’t my idea of fun. I mean, he owed it to me. But still. Cold turkey is always best after a breakup, agree?”
    “If only it were that easy.”
    “Right?” Corrine smiled and stared down into her coffee, not in a rush to leave. When she looked at him again, she stared at him until Realm shifted his stance, trying to get out of her line of vision. “Sorry,” she said, realizing what she was doing. “I was just thinking . . . You were in The Program, weren’t you?”
    “What?”
    “You’re a product of The Program? Did you try to kill yourself? I see your . . . uh . . .” She motioned on her own neck to the scar on his. Realm had almost forgotten it was there.
    “Yeah,” he said self-consciously. “I was in The Program a while back.”
    “I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. You don’t really look like them. You’re too . . .” She shrugged. “Melancholy.”
    Realm took another sip of his coffee, although this time its bitterness couldn’t compete with his own.“Not exactly the trait I’m most proud of,” he responded.
    Corrine watched him a second longer, and then took a sip. “You don’t seem so bad to me, Michael Realm. I kind of like it.”
    His heart beat a little faster. “And what about you? Are you a product of our flawed mental health system?”
    “No,” she said. “I graduated the year before The Program was created.” She lowered her eyes. “But my little brother went through the system two years ago. My parents sent him to live with our aunt in Oregon and The Program picked him up.”
    Realm’s stomach twisted, the worry that he possibly knew her brother spiking fear. “I’m sorry,” Realm said. Corrine turned to him, surprised.
    “Why?” she asked. “He didn’t die. In fact, he’s back in L.A., finishing up