“Daniel,” I whispered, “someone has planted something in my luggage. I need help reporting it safely before I travel.”
His tone became serious.
“Margaret, don’t handle it. Stay away from the suitcase. I’m contacting the appropriate officers.”
I forwarded the footage.
Then I sat by the window, watching darkness settle over the neighborhood.
Brittany believed the following morning would end with me in handcuffs at the airport.
She hadn’t realized she’d targeted someone whose entire career involved uncovering precisely such deception.
And I intended to let the evidence tell the story.
At five thirty, Brittany knocked on my bedroom door.
“Morning, Margaret! Ready for your big trip?”
I was already dressed, sitting in the armchair.
“Almost.”
Her gaze shifted toward my suitcase.
“Want me to carry that downstairs?”
“No, thank you.”
She pressed her lips together.
Ethan called from the hallway, “Mom, I’ll drive you.”
