Chapter 10: Papers

On Monday morning, I walked into Redwing's hangar at 7:45 with a manila envelope in my hand.

The whole company was there for a mandatory all-hands.

About forty people sat on folding chairs, pilots in flight suits and mechanics in grease-stained coveralls.

A row of dispatchers stood along the side wall with their headsets around their necks.

Dalton stood at the front beside Aircraft Two, with a laser pointer in his hand and a slide on the wall behind him.

The slide said: OUR COMMITMENT TO YOU.

The thin man in the quarter-zip saw me first.

He stopped mid-word.

Dalton turned, and the red dot of the laser slid off the wall and onto the concrete floor.

"Han."

I walked all the way down the center aisle between the chairs.

Nobody told me to stop.

A mechanic in the second row moved his boots out of my way.

I held out the envelope.

"What is that?" Dalton said.

"Divorce papers. I filed on Friday, and the clerk says you have to be served in person." I kept my hand out. "So you're served."

He didn't take it.

Forty people were watching him not take it.

"You texted me that I was being dramatic," I said. "This is me being precise."

Somebody in the back row made a small noise, and tried to turn it into a cough.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Sent the Helicopter for Her Dog from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.