While You Were Gone Read Online Free

reflection in the window overlooking Phoenix. The city stretches out in a shimmering grid of gold and silver lights. It’s beautiful. But the darkness hides an ugly truth: Part of the city is without power. A mall lies in smoldering ruins. That’s on the other side of the Executive Tower, though, so we don’t have to think about it while we eat. Out of sight, out of mind.
    “We need to go shopping,” Mom says, breaking the silence but not looking up from her work. “Governor’s Gala is just around the corner.”
    The thought feels like grit in my mouth. “They’re still going to have it? Even with everything going on?”
    “Of course,” she says. “It’s a tradition. I think you should go with Chad. He’s a nice kid.”
    “Mom, I told you before—”
    Dad’s entrance rescues me from having to explain for the thousandth time that I don’t want to go with Chad to the gala, or anywhere, ever. “Fine. Keep me posted.” He tucks his phone into his pocket, opens the media cabinet on the wall and turns on the flat screen. President Coradetti stands at a podium, a flag-lined hallway behind him. His face is stern.
    “…because what happened in Phoenix could happen anywhere. The truth is, there are forces strategizing against our great nation. Individuals and organizations actively plotting to harm our people. They are ruthless. They are heart—” The lights flicker and the television glitches.
    “What was that?” Mom asks.
    “Fluctuation in the power grid,” Dad says, waving his hand to quiet her. “It’s to be expected.”
    The president unfreezes. “…will not stop until they’ve unraveled the very fabric of our society. We cannot and will not let that happen. I am working closely with Governor Solomon and security agencies to ensure the safety and well-being of the good people of Arizona. We will move through this dark and dangerous time toward a better tomorrow, but only if we stand together and stand strong. Thank you.” The presidential seal fills the screen before it returns to regular news.
    Dad mutes the TV and sits at the head of the table. I watch the reporter’s lips move, waiting for the lights to flicker again. Dad sighs. “How am I going to follow that speech?”
    “You’re going to be great.” Mom puts a hand on his shoulder.
    “I just don’t think anyone realizes the pressure….”
    “You were made for times like this. And we’ll be right there to support you. Right, Eve?”
    Behind her, scenes of military personnel and cleanup crews move across the screen. I force myself to smile. “Of course. You’ve got this.”
    He smiles. “Where would I be without my girls? Is this creole tilapia? You must really love me.” He winks at Mom and digs in. My own fish remains untouched. I push it around a little with my fork.
    “Eve,” he says, his face and emotions back in check, “I received word that school is no longer on lockdown. Jonas can take you back straight from the press conference tomorrow.”
    I exhale. Loud.
    “Yes, yes, we know,” he says. “You can’t wait to get away.”
    “Security will be on alert?” Mom’s voice is tense.
    “What kind of father would I be if I didn’t look out for my daughter when terrorists threaten to undermine the safety of our city?”
    “Is that from tomorrow’s speech?”
    “You could tell?”
    “Maybe a little less dramatic with the delivery.” She dabs her mouth with her napkin. “Eve and I were discussing the gala. We need to find dresses.”
    “And a date.”
    “Well, I know who I’m going with.” She pats his arm.
    “What’s the name of that intern in your office? Charlie?”
    “Chad,” Mom says.
    “Good kid.” He sips from his water glass. “Eve should go with him.”
    I blurt out, “I’m not going.”
    That gets their attention.
    “Of course you are,” Mom says. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
    “Ridiculous?” I point my fork at the TV. “You’re talking about dresses when someone just attacked the