Aria shut the trapdoor to her home behind her and looked around for the last time. She used to go up and down that tunnel a dozen times a day when she was little, but that habit was long gone now.
The sound of the air purifier filled the long white corridor.
Aria’s home was the second one on the terrace, right after the house where Grandma Mary and Grandpa Charlie had lived. In front of her were eight more trapdoors. She started walking. Each trapdoor had a bell with the family name written on it. The uselessness of that detail was almost funny. Morris, Potter, Rossetti, Brown, Robinson, Althani, Johnson and, finally, Martin – names of people whose faces Aria had never seen.
Technically there was that time when she had nearly seen one of the Rossettis, but that didn’t really count. They had shut the door as soon as they noticed her, so it was too short to be considered a real meeting.
“Time?” She asked the EYE when she got to the end of the tunnel, her voice louder than usual to overcome the noise, which had become more intense now that she was closer to the purifier.
“One minute to eight,” the chip stuck on her forehead replied.
Perfect timing, the appointment with the aircar was at 8:00. Aria passed the post-room and reached the door that led to the parking.
It was happening. She was really going outside. The first of the Adams’s to leave the house in twenty years.