Backpack (part 2)

The woman’s straight eyebrows furrowed. She cocked her head. “It’ll be perfectly safe here,” she said, and added when Haley shook her head, “I can promise you that.”

It took all Haley’s will not to laugh out loud. Promises. Worse than please. She watched the two shrunken, wrinkled women in charge of the bins. Each time someone put their belongings in a bin, they got a token in return—a cheap brown piece of plastic with a white number stamped onto it. That wasn’t even close to something she could do.

Haley moved to follow her classmates, who were walking towards a short haired guy wearing a security suit.

“Miss?” The woman held out a hand to stop her. “You won’t be able to go into the exhibit unless you leave your backpack here. I’m sorry. It’s museum policy.”

“Should I leave?” Haley asked.

“No, no. Your class is here for a tour.” The woman’s eyes moved to watch Haley’s classmates hold out their tickets to the security guy, then back to Haley. “Are you sure?”

 

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