Amaryllis
We pulled up to the airport and quickly parked in the long-term parking. Rorick grinned as he took the receipt for the car, claiming we would be gone for two weeks, before tossing it into the trash the moment we passed the booth. He had a bag slung over his shoulders, a small one he had picked up last night, as I carried my duffle bag.
“Can you affect the screening systems in the airport? Make it so that the bags are cleared to go through?” He muttered. I shrugged.
I’m not sure. But I can manipulate the person looking at it to think they are seeing something else. I assured him. He nodded as we headed into the main lobby. There were ticket booths lined up on one side, while people who already had tickets were placing their bags to get weighed. I have never been to an airport b
