Flash Point
“She’d left at seven since she had to walk and had no money left for the bus, but at least it had stopped raining. The building was huge, a glass-and-blue-steel skyscraper that occupied the entire block. Amy found the entrance she’d been instructed to use, a small side door on Remington Street. A security guard had her put her fingertips to a scanner, then consulted a tablet.
“Go ahead, miss. Through those detectors, elevators on your right. Go to Room 864-B.”
She was nervous. Was she dressed OK? She wore her best pants and Kaylie’s green silk sweater, swiped again before Kaylie woke up. Her shoes, though, were her old school flats, comfortable for walking but worn and with a tiny hole on one side. Would jeans and sneakers have been better? Myra Townsend had said they wanted an “athletic” employee. Still, the pants had enough stretch for good movement— She needn’t have worried. The elevator took her to the basement, where she wandered low-ceilinged, featureless corridors until ...she found room 864-B.MoreLess
“Go ahead, miss. Through those detectors, elevators on your right. Go to Room 864-B.”
She was nervous. Was she dressed OK? She wore her best pants and Kaylie’s green silk sweater, swiped again before Kaylie woke up. Her shoes, though, were her old school flats, comfortable for walking but worn and with a tiny hole on one side. Would jeans and sneakers have been better? Myra Townsend had said they wanted an “athletic” employee. Still, the pants had enough stretch for good movement— She needn’t have worried. The elevator took her to the basement, where she wandered low-ceilinged, featureless corridors until ...she found room 864-B.MoreLess
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