A business card fell out from a side pocket, bearing a mobile number. Lena’s thumb hovered over her phone screen, but she hesitated. The police station was only six blocks away. It felt like the adult choice—the safe, documented choice. She didn’t want a reward; she just wanted to be done with it.
As she exited the park, the air felt colder. The cyclist with the red delivery bag crossed her path again, pedaling slowly now, his head low. He swerved to avoid a child, drawing a sharp “Watch it!” from the father nearby. Lena didn’t think much of it then. She was too focused on the weight of the bag in her hand.
She passed the local bakery and a row of shops, her reflection caught in a dozen security cameras. She walked with her head up, a woman on a mission of honesty. She felt a strange, fleeting sense of peace, convinced that this small act of kindness might somehow balance the scales of her disastrous morning. She had no idea she was walking straight into a trap.