The receipt had been folded behind the Polaroid.
Bellmere Heritage Storage
Locker 417.
Paid in cash.
Final collection scheduled for 11:30 a.m.
That morning.
There was one more thing.
A luggage claim tag bearing Adrian’s name and a handwritten note:
Two cases. Fragile. Do not send to hotel until confirmed.
I looked toward the bed.
Adrian slept peacefully.
I did not.
My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it.
I wish I could say I calmly woke him and asked a reasonable question.
I didn’t.
Instead, I quietly put everything into the pocket of my robe, picked up my phone, and walked out of our honeymoon suite barefoot.
I had known Adrian for four years.
For almost all of those four years, he had been the easiest person in my life to trust.
That mattered because I had not exactly built my early adulthood on excellent judgment.
