He reached for the cookbook on the high shelf. He pulled it down and shook it, expecting the passport to slide out onto the counter.
Nothing fell out.
Mark froze. He ruffled through the pages frantically. Empty. He checked behind the microwave, under the toaster, on the floor.
[readalso]
The passport was gone.
His heart began to hammer against his ribs. He had put it there three minutes ago. No one else was in the apartment. Unless she had been watching him the whole time?
“Okay, very funny, Sarah,” he said aloud, his voice trembling slightly. “You got me.”
[readalso]