Things Left Behind

Dawn had just begun to break. A seam split the leaden clouds, spilling thin morning light into the room.

Cecilia leaned against the headboard, the cold glow of her phone screen highlighting the faint shadows beneath her eyes.

When the unlisted number popped up for the third time, she finally swiped to answer--without speaking.

Steady breathing came through the receiver, followed by a low male voice.

"Apologies for calling at this hour, ma'am."

She remained silent.

As if he had expected that, the caller continued, "I'm Murray, aide-de-camp to Officer Todd. There's something that must be delivered to Mr. Liam Sinclair personally."

Cecilia padded barefoot to the window, her fingertips tracing the condensation fogging the glass.

Across the street, a black sedan was parked. Its tinted windows revealed nothing.

"The item can be sent directly to the police station," she said carefully.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible." Murray's tone remained respectful, but carried an unyielding firmness.