“I wasn’t wearing a coat,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “They were on a brass ring with a little plastic tag from the library.”
Brenda tapped her pen against her clipboard. “I’ll call down to admitting, but they usually write down every item. If they aren’t in the bag, they weren’t on you when you came through the doors.”
My hand brushed against something small and metallic at the very bottom of the bag, wedged into the lining. I pulled it out and held it up to the light. It was a heavy gold ballpoint pen with a tiny clip shaped like a leaf.
I recognized that pen. It belonged to Tessa.
“Is that yours?” Brenda asked.
“No,” I said, placing the gold pen on the bedside table. “It isn’t mine.”
“Well, the policeman is coming back up,” Brenda said, looking toward the hallway. “You should tell him about the keys.”
She turned and left the room before I could ask her if anyone else had been allowed near my personal effects while I was unconscious.
