Then I noticed the Door to my Bedroom.
Slightly ajar.
I always sleep with my bedroom door closed.
My heart sank to my stomach.
For the last almost two months, my younger sister Clara had been living with me, having stated her roommate was “toxic” (whatever that meant) and she needed “time to find herself” (whatever that meant).
Clara was always needing something.
Whether it was space, money, patience, a second chance, having money transferred quickly, or forgiveness for things she hadn’t earned.
I walked down the hall to the Guest Bedroom.
“Clara?” I called out.
No response.
I knocked again.
Still nothing.
When I pushed open the door to the Guest Bedroom, the bed was unmade, there was a blanket thrown on the floor beside it, the closet-door was open, and there was a lavender candle on the nightstand beside the bed that I had previously cautioned her against using… the candle was still warm (meaning it had recently been used) and the plug on her phone was plugged into the wall, but the phone wasn’t there.
Also missing was her pink suitcase.
In the Living Room, the cushions on the couch were askew, and I saw a wine glass on the table that possessed the evidential lipstick-print of red on the rim… In the Kitchen, I located a folded, crumpled-up receipt from a ride-hailing service.
The pick-up time was 3:03 A.M.
The destination was Terminal 1, Mexico City International Airport.
My hands turned to ice.
I opened Instagram.
Clara had posted a Story on Instagram.
There she was, standing in the Airport Lights at the Airport in Mexico City, smiling happily with her hair perfectly styled and wearing oversized sunglasses, and her arm wrapped around our cousin Paola, the two of them posing proudly with their Passports.I sat in my room sleeping until my sister Clara came in without me knowing it and took my credit card out of my wallet. She used my card to purchase a first-class ticket to Japan for herself and Paola.
I opened my phone to find another notification.
A notification that didn’t come from the bank.
It was a picture of Clara in the VIP section of an airport asking for a kiss or blowing a kiss to the camera, wearing my silver bracelet that I bought right after I signed the contract for my first large consulting contract.
That bracelet used to be in the same drawer as my credit card.
In the same drawer as a black USB drive that held the backup files for my business.
I rushed back to my desk.
The USB drive was gone!
At that moment it dawned on me: Clara had not only stolen money from me.
There was a reason Clara searched that drawer!