Page 114 of Filthy Little Fix
I stare at him. Yes, the headphones are in my pocket.
"No, Chad. I didn't."
"Keep an eye on her for me, man. If you see anything, let me know."
I just nod slowly. He seems satisfied, as if we've just sealed a pact.
"Thanks, buddy," he says, patting my shoulder. "Shit, I need to find those headphones before they seal the floor."
He walks away, starting to rummage through his own boxes, convinced that Nicole, of all people, stole his crappy headphones.
I don't give him the satisfaction of a second answer. For me, this conversation is over. Thisplaceis over.
I turn to my cubicle. There's not much I want to take. The pens, the notepads, the technical manuals... they're just remnants of a life that is no longer mine. I look at the dark computer screen, at the Volkov surveillance camera that is, no doubt, recording this exact moment.
I grab an old laptop I kept in the bottom drawer. The key is always in the soil of my fern, which is the only other thing that belongs to me here.
With the fern secure in one arm and the laptop in the other, I walk toward the exit.
I ignore Chad. I pass Nicole, who gives me one last sad look.
"Take care, Leo."
I give her a nod. "You too, Nicole."
I leave behind the cardboard boxes and Chad's voice still complaining about his headphones. As the elevator descends, I stare at the fern's leaves. Her kindness. His stupid concern. Their fragility.
As I pass through the turnstiles for the last time, I don't look back.
Luca waits for me at the door. He looks like a security guard. He looks at my belongings—an old, beat-up laptop and a fern—and says, "Is that all you're taking?"
"It's the only thing that belongs to me."
He seems to want to ask about the plant. He refrains. "The car is waiting."
He leads me to a black armored SUV with raised suspension and immense wheels. The dark leather seats are cold and soft. Even the air conditioning seems to blow more expensive air, with a faint smell of wood and pepper. Luca and another large man in a suit sit in the front seats.
I watch the city rush by the window. The generic office buildings, the streets full of ordinary people with ordinary problems. Through the armored glass, everything looks like a silent film. A world I no longer belong to.
The car drives for a few minutes in silence, but instead of taking the expressway out of the city, the driver turns toward a familiar neighborhood.Myneighborhood. The car slows and stops in front of my house. The same grey, depressing building I left behind.
"Mr. Volkov's orders were for you to collect any valuable personal items you wish to keep," Luca says. "The rest will be discarded."
Discarded. The word is so final. So... Dante.
I can't resist a smile.
"He's telling me to pack?"
He wants me to collect the fragments of my pathetic existence and take them to his castle. It's an act of annexation.
Luca opens the door for me. He escorts me into the house without saying anything.
Everything is exactly as I left it. Impersonal, with cheap, lifeless furniture. I don't have much. I grab a backpack. I throw in some clothes, an external hard drive with old projects, and the cryptography book that was on my nightstand. Of course, my personal laptop, which isn't the trash I left at the office. I like to have two—one is for malware. And that's it. The rest are just things.
Luca observes the almost empty backpack. "Just that?"
I look around. The grey house. The grey life.
