The summer evening was warm, the air a gentle breeze as I sped down the quiet highway. Lost in the blast of "Wild Thing, You Make My Heart Sing," I was shaking my head, tapping the steering wheel, a woman without a care in the world. A quick glance in the rearview mirror to check my lipstick turned my blood cold. Flashing lights. A siren's furious wail.
Damn it.
My cheerful mood evaporated. I swore under my breath, slowed, and pulled over. Rolling down the window, I mustered a smile. "Hello, Officer "
He was not charmed. "Your driver's license, please," he demanded, his voice a flat, unfriendly line.
"Sure. It's in my bag." I turned to grab it from the back seat, but my fingers brushed empty air. "Just a moment," I said, stepping out to open the back door. I could feel his gaze on me, a heavy weight as I ruffled through the bag. My stomach dropped. This was the wrong bag. My purse-and my license-were sitting on my kitchen counter.
I turned back to him, my voice softening into a plea. "I'm so sorry, Officer. I've picked up the wrong bag. My license isn't here."
"Your name?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Satsuma Larene."
"Have you been drinking this evening, Madam?"
"I... I had one glass of wine earlier. I'm not drunk."
"You were doing fifteen over the limit. So, you're speeding, you've been drinking, and you have no proof of who you are." He stated it like a death sentence. "I'm going to have to take you in."
Panic seized me. "Officer, please My parents are expecting me. They'll worry. Isn't there... anything I can do?"
He took a step closer, then another, until he was towering over me. The air crackled. My lips began to quiver, my palms slick with sweat. I was terrified, frozen, wondering if he was going to attack me. I stared back, my mouth half-parted, but no words came out.