I reached out and touched the slick plastic.

It slid smoothly under my fingers.

I stood alone in the bright parking lot, staring at the empty white garment bag I was supposed to trust them with.

The stone patio at the Lakeview Hotel smelled like expensive perfume and ocean salt.

I sat at a small iron table, turning a seven-dollar iced coffee in my hands.

Condensation dripped down the sides of the tall plastic cup.

The ice clinked against the plastic when I set it down.