I chanted the silent mantra as I finished setting up the fake-but-not-really-
fake burglary.
I left the front door unlocked, replanted
the spare key in the
pot, and hoped like hell real burglars wouldn’t
show up before Josh came
home.
Since he lived near Thayer, his neighborhood was eerily quiet during the
summer.
No raucous house parties, no chatter
from students heading to and
from one of the campus bars, no one to stop me as I strolled down the street
with my loot.
The logical part of me knew there was nothing overtly suspicious about a
woman walking around at night with a portfolio bag. The paranoid part of me
was convinced the bag served as a neon sign announcing to the world what a
terrible person I was.
Liar! Thief! Do not trust her! it screamed.
Great. Now I was hearing voices from inanimate objects.
I tightened my hold on my bag and quickened my pace until I reached the
metro station, where I pulled out my phone again to update Max.
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