Caitan grabs the bag out of Andrea’s hands and forces the zipper open. She rifles through the bag for a moment and her forehead wrinkles. The blonde and brunette women crowd next to her, staring into the open bag. Andrea smiles—she knows they’re seeing the double-wire seam and careful hand-stitched details. No fake bag has such careful details.
Caitan flips the bag over and shakes the contents onto the floor. A pack of tissues, Andrea’s phone, a credit card, and something wrapped in blue and red foil fall to the ground. Caitan nudges the pile with the toe of her shoe, and a nasty grin spreads across her face.
“Is that what I think it is?” Caitan asks. “I can’t believe she brought that here!”
The crowd presses closer, but it’s impossible to see what Caitan is talking about—the foil pa
