Assumptions Read Online Free Page A

a
sharp click. The ribbon dropped to the concrete below. Quig
collected the pieces, handing half to the girl. He led her up the
steps and paraded her along the front of the stage, ending at
center. Quig counted with his fingers . . . one . . . two . . . on
three they tossed the ribbons into the writhing crowd below.
    A knot of tweens near the front of the stage
screamed and waved homemade banners proclaiming ConstanZa
rocks! The girl shifted her weight to one foot, tapping the toe
of her other plaid sneaker on the stage. Quig stepped back.
ConstanZa daintily adjusted the mic at her chin, closed her eyes,
and whispered each syllable with purpose: “Ser-en-dip-i-ty,
Ser-en-dip-i-ty.” The crowd joined in, the speed and volume
increasing until the chant exploded into cacophony.
    The media façade faded to black. A jagged
burnt-orange cliff burst onto the three story screen. At the
bottom, Serendipity stared up, lean and small against the towering
rock. A spark glinted off a thin shackle encircling her bare ankle.
She looked over her shoulder, tied her long hair in a knot, blinked
her jade eyes, and waited for ConstanZa’s direction.
    Quig slipped away, abdicating center
stage.
    ConstanZa kicked off her sneakers, a shining
ring at her ankle. She pulled a pair of palm-sized sticks from her
jacket pocket. She studied the knobs and buttons, then raised her
head, eyes focused intensely just above the crowd at her feet. She
stretched herself tall, thrust her shoulders back, blinked once,
and turned to lead Serendipity up the cliff.
    Quig passed through the front doors of his
building into an airy lobby which still smelled like wood sealer
and wet paint. Tuxedoed servers circulated among the VIPs with
silver trays of blood orange martinis and miniature toasts topped
with slices of applewood bacon and quail eggs, sunny side up.
    Quig made his way to the center of the room,
shaking hands with half-a-dozen men in suits then jogged up a
flight of glass stairs to the second floor vestibule. He stood in
front of the doors admiring the serpentine logo he had designed
fifteen years earlier. He waved his company ID at the small box at
the jamb, waited for the click, then went inside.
    Just beyond the doors, a woman in a severe
skirted suit waited in the corner office. She leaned on the edge of
a desk still piled high with cardboard boxes. Elizabeth
Denton , read her ID, Senior Vice President, Operations,
Serendipity Smiles, Chicago.
    “At last,” she said, exasperated.
    “Beth! Good to see you, too!”
    “Where’s the Kleenex?” She dug through a box.
“Hold on, here we are.” She plucked a tissue out of its box and
scrubbed the lipstick off Quig’s cheek. She handed him a company
check and a pen.
    “What’s this?”
    “Band. They’re getting ready to leave.”
    "Mmm, too bad." He signed and handed
everything back to Ms. Denton. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to
these events."
    “Oh, don't give me that."
    Quig pulled his smartphone from his jacket
pocket and tapped at the screen. “Look at the time.”
    “She’ll be fine."
    “I know, I know. I just . . .”
    “Come with me.” Ms. Denton took his upper arm
and led him to the front window. “Look at that. Kids and parents
and everyone in between standing shoulder to shoulder, all
mesmerized by one little girl playing your game. Do you think she
would want you to miss that?”
    “No, of course not.” Quig scanned the street
below one last time. He turned to Ms. Denton and smiled. “So, what
do you think of my new office?”
     

    CHAPTER FIVE: NOBODY
     
    Eastview College Preparatory Academy
commanded half a city block on the north side of Chicago, all red
brick and uniform windows, more factory than school. Only a narrow
band of well-kept lawn dotted with mature parkway maples, now
losing their leaves to the autumn chill, softened the harsh façade.
A six-story clock tower marked the main entrance. A lithe
strawberry-blonde girl loitered in its shadow. She