Still, she hurriedly explained, “It’s probably my coworker's. They caught a ride with me after work." Her voice was unnervingly calm, lips trembling ever so slightly as if she were holding back something deeper.
Not wanting to prolong the topic, I simply hummed and nodded. Afterward, the atmosphere in the car became heavy and tense in an instant.
Had I not seen that same bag last night, in the photo of her and Craig, I might’ve believed her. The unmistakable Pikachu keychain dangling from the zipper—the one we’d won together on our first date—stood out like a flashing neon sign. That keychain had gone missing weeks ago, and I had turned the house upside down looking for it. I remember Sacha snapping at me, saying it was just a worthless trinket. “It’s not worth fussing over if it’s lost,” she had said. In hindsight, she wasn’t wrong, it really isn't worth anything—once a keepsake loses its meaning.
After a while, we finally arrived at the hospital. Just as Sacha was about to help me out of the car, her phone buzzed, slicing through the uneasy quiet. A hint of hesitation then flashed in her eyes, but after a few seconds, she eventually answered the call.