The power came back after forty seconds, but by then everyone was filming.
I stood in the middle of the room with the duffel in my hands and fifty phones pointed at me. Someone was already streaming. Someone else was yelling, "What's in the bag?"
I opened it.
Bottles. Cash. Pills.
The room went quiet in a way I had never heard before. The teenage kind of quiet, where every person is doing math about how much trouble they are in.
Then Cassidy pushed through the crowd. She looked at the bag, then at me, and her face went through something I did not expect.
Fear.
Not anger. Fear.
"Nora," she said. "You idiot."
"Cassidy. Who paid for these?"
"I don't know his name. He just texts me. He started two months ago." She said it fast, low, so only I could hear. "He gives me a cut if I bring
