Courtney insisted on driving me to the airport at five, smiling the whole way, and Lucas sat silently in the back seat, staring at his hands. The suitcase rode in the trunk exactly where she had left it, and my pulse stayed steady. Steven had told me to act normal, so I did. At the terminal, two officers and a woman in a gray blazer stepped out from behind a pillar before I reached the check-in line.

“Mrs. Hayes?” the woman asked. “We received an anonymous tip about your carry-on. Please place it on the table.” Courtney’s hand flew to her mouth in perfect, rehearsed shock. An officer unzipped the deepest compartment, lifted out the small black pouch, and opened it slowly. His face went rigid. He looked at me, then at Courtney, and said, “Ma’am, step away from the bag right now.”