Chapter Twenty-EightI took a cab to base the next morning. I was sick to my stomach, tired of everything.
Easy. Fragile. This hold I held on my life, this fragile, tenuous hold; it was easily taken away, an illusion that what I held belonged to me.
I took the stairs to the first floor, crossing the foyer of Roland's office to what seemed like my last visit. Vincent's door was open, his office empty.
Valerie sat behind her semi-circular desk, typing on a laptop.
I waited for her to acknowledge me, even if we both knew she was aware of my presence. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of asking for permission to see Roland, or wait for her goodwill to buzz me through, I picked up a magazine from a corner table and sat, legs crossed.
I had nothing to lose, nowhere to go. Nothing to d
