The plastic sleeve felt smooth in my palm, harmless and as light as a sheet of notebook paper.

I closed the laptop until the screen went dark.

The house was completely silent except for the steady hum of the refrigerator motor.

Mark was supposed to be in a hotel room in Chicago for three days of corporate strategy meetings, but the paper receipt hidden in his desk drawer proved he had bought two round-trip tickets to Miami for four hundred eighteen dollars instead.

I slid the plastic sleeve back into the zipper pocket of my purse and snapped the metal clasp shut.