The staff member assigned to search my luggage was a woman.
I unzipped my backpack cleanly and handed it over. I wasn’t nervous at all.
There wasn’t much inside: a few sets of old clothes washed so many times they’d faded white; an old‑fashioned radio; a small whetstone with chipped corners; a stone mortar and pestle; a tightly tied bag of “wood shavings”; and two pairs of cloth shoes worn soft from being stepped on.
She flipped through each item. Her fingers even paused on the fabric for a few seconds, like she couldn’t believe someone would bring luggage this shabby onto a show.
In the end, she checked off on her list and set my backpack aside.
I leaned against the door frame and watched Jevon and Lilith still arguing in the yard.
I couldn’t help curling my lips. Looks like someone
