Missing bag

Anderson

Stepping out of the house, I took a deep breath, savoring the cold evening air. My phone buzzed in my pocket for the tenth time that day, but I ignored it. David was already waiting in the car, and my nerves were on edge. I was running late. 

I glanced at my watch as I walked toward the driveway. 9:30 PM. My flight was at 9:40, and the airport wasn’t far, but in this city, traffic had a mind of its own.

“Mr. Anderson,” David called, stepping out of the car and opening the passenger door for me. “We should hurry if you want to make it...