When Sam comes back from the Grid, he lets Alan take over ENCOM, or so he thinks. It takes approximately three days for him to get a call from the office, asking whether he wants to come in and sit during a board meeting, just to be sure that the company follows the direction he desires for it. Quorra, now going by Cora (It's more normal, Sam says), tells him that it's fine. "Your dad would love for you to be involved with ENCOM, right?" she asks.
He shrugs before shuffling out to his motorcycle, and she watches him drive off, smiling as the sun comes up once again and the city around her awakes.
What starts out as Sam occasionally checking in at his father's company quickly spirals into almost daily visits and meetings. At first, Cora completely supports him; she's so sure of his father's vision, and Sam working to achieve it must be a good thing.
Then, though, he begins to work until two o'clock in the morning and sometimes falls asleep in his office chair, only waking when she calls out of worry. And Cora worries a lot. She's never had stable interaction with anyone besides Kevin Flynn, but she feels uncomfortable when she is left alone for hours at a time; she can't go out and find a job because she has no records for employers to look through, and Sam has been too busy to help her create any. Instead, the only surviving ISO becomes proficient in watching late-night talk shows and waiting for calls about how Sam is so sorry that he won't be able to make it for dinner. Cora tries to practice different skills she knows are important in Sam's world, washing the laundry and cooking dinner. She's fastest at learning to use the computer, radio, anything that is at all similar to the technology she had in the Grid. And she still finds herself bored and lonely.
To be fair, Sam has always had money. His dad wasn't exactly broke before he disappeared, and his company had continued to succeed after his disappearance, despite Sam's pranks. Now, though, with Sam in charge… The company has never seen so much money pass into its coffers, and expansions are planned, press conferences become more frequent, Sam Flynn becomes a household name.
And it's quite possibly the most horrid that Sam has ever felt in his life. At first, there's something interesting, maybe even alluring, about the way that people recognize him on sight, whether they've ever met or not. College and high school kids think he's cool, news reporters want to interview him, and people seem to see him as the deciding voice on what becomes popular in software, period. He's never wanted to be the center of attention, but it's sort of nice until he begins to realize that every interview is the same and every fan is just another person that knows nothing about him but everything about his dad's company.
He doesn't tell Cora how awful work is because he figures she wants him there, supporting the Flynn legacy, and so Sam holds in his growing disgust like bile he has to keep swallowing.
Things escalate when they move into a bigger house near the city. Cora comes with Sam because she has nowhere else to go, even though the two of them haven't had a true conversation in months. They avoid each other in the sprawling space of their new home, and Sam still works late and comes back even later. The worst, however, occurs when Cora attends a lunch with him and some other well-to-do business men. Sam needs his potential business partners to see his laid-back, supposedly happy side, and so Cora smiles at people she doesn't know and spends the dinner pretending that she doesn't feel sick to her stomach.
Some paparazzo is taking pictures, but that doesn't seem important until later, when Sam walks into the kitchen and throws a newspaper on the countertop. "I can't believe this," he yells, and Cora cringes at how loud his voice is.
"You can't believe what?" she asks quietly.
He slides the newspaper over to her and points at the cover photo. She scans the page and sees her face under the caption "Flynn Girlfriend Doesn't Exist!"
"How do they know?" She tries to ask with some real anxiety, but all she feels is tired.
"Someone took pictures and, since we hadn't made any public appearances yet, they tried to figure out who you were, I guess. And we both know they're not going to find you in a search engine or database."
"Do you want me to leave?" she whispers. "I know that this kind of publicity can't be good."
"Cora, are you serious?" he asks, and she doesn't realize that he's shocked by her suggestion until he tips her chin up to his face. "Do you really think I care enough to let you leave?"
"Well, I just figured that ENCOM was important to you and…"
"ENCOM is important, but not as much as you, okay? And not just because you're the last of your kind or whatever."
"Then why are you always gone? I know that I don't exactly understand humans, Sam, but even I realize that constantly staying away from somebody means you probably don't care about them."
"I thought you wanted me to finish my dad's work… I didn't want to let you down by telling you that I hate it."
They both listen to the noises of the house, the air conditioner whirring and the fridge humming, before Sam says, "How do you feel about a new address?"
It takes some time to readjust, but they manage. Sam returns her name to her (I liked Quorra better anyways, he explains) and creates all the necessary paperwork, all the sheets that make her seem as real as everyone else. They find a little house on a river surrounded by trees and leave in the middle of the night, after a quiet ceremony in the old Flynn arcade, Quorra wearing a white dress she found in a thrift shop and Sam in his nicest shirt and dress pants, pulling at a tie like it's choking him and watching her with the first smile he's worn in months.
After a few years, Quorra finally realizes why she was so bored in the city, why the life she and Sam have created suits her so much better: the sunrises are best when he's watching them with her.
"So, Sam just up and left without a goodbye, didn't even give a formal notice of his leaving?" Alan asks, staring at the Flynn boy's secretary.
"No, sir; I only know because he left a note on my desk about it," says the college student, trying to avoid the intimidating gaze of the man hovering over his work space.
"Show me."
Alan reads over the tiny piece of paper stuffed in a crisp office envelope. The message is simple and clear: Sam is done with the company, and he's leaving it to him. He nods along, knowing that maybe it's for the best that he gets away from the sometimes suffocating office, but he smiles at the last line especially.
Don't worry, Alan; I'll treat the girl right.