Kingdom Come

ix. Roadkill

"And on today's breaking news, Nutrien issued a lengthy statement just hours ago, apologizing to the parents of scholarship children for being unable to maintain their confidence in them. The directors appear to believe that the conflict is arising from the disconnection parents experience from their kids and the anxiety that results from it. 

They also appear to be taking full responsibility for failing to maintain a healthy channel of communication between parents and supervisors. They will be developing an app that allows parents to receive regular reports and check-in's with the supervisor as they wish. Apart from this, they will be dividing children of the same division into smaller groups. This is to ensure that they are receiving appropriate attention from their teachers. 

There will also be an anonymous review system. Each child shall be given a code that can only be intercepted by the machine and cannot be revealed to any living person. 

Mark Hubert, the CEO of Nutrien, made a personal statement on his ATOM account to dispel rumours of a defamation lawsuit against Jeremiah Brown. He boldly praised Jeremiah for his courage and stressed that it was important for children to hear stories such as his to be able to differentiate between healthy and toxic work environments, and that Nutrien would always have a zero-tolerance policy against ab—" 

"Can you please turn that off?" I say through gritted teeth. The bartender mutes it immediately. I slam my glass down on the counter—with a little more force than intended—and jump up from the tall chair.

I stare at the heavy oak doors, guarding the private room at the other end of this exclusive cocktail lounge, with my hands gripping the edge of the counter. Counting on the liquid courage dripping into my bloodstream, I unlock my phone, press 'Record,' and strategically place it back in my shoulder bag.

"You know, you don't have to watch her leave."

"I wasn't—"

"Save it! You're not fooling me. You didn't go after your dad, one bit. He couldn't flirt at all. I'm telling you, it used to be hard to watch."

"Oh, I believe you. So what do you think? Should I shoot my shot?"

"I don't like mixing my personal and professional life, but if you're okay with that—why not? And if you're asking me what I really think you're asking me—no. I promise I won't tell my brother."

"Well, thank you. I'll have to admit, there is a good chance she might refuse. She's a little unstable, right? She flinched pretty hard when the door swung shut behind her." 

"Fuck's sake, Wayne. The girl just got shot. If she refuses, it will be because she's smart."

"Oh fuck you, Mark—"

"She was right about Bex, you know that."

I pound my fists hard against the door when no one answers. My breath is ragged and there is a dull spasmodic pain in the muscles near my neck. I had rushed up the flight of stairs, rang the bell, and called her name several times before starting to knock.

"Oh come on," I moan, pounding my knuckles against the door again. I walk over to the window a few feet from the door, pressing my forehead against it to catch any movement inside. "Julie? Are you there?"

"Yeah, she was. We still have to be careful. Sure we wrapped a pretty bow around it and the response from Bex was great but that doesn't necessarily translate into votes. I know Councilwoman Kerry called you."