When Susan saw I wasn't pushing back hard, a flash of triumph slipped through her eyes.
She didn't wait for permission. She reached over and yanked my drawer open.
She knew exactly where to look—fingers diving straight to the very back, digging around—
Her expression stiffened.
I stood beside her with my arms crossed.
"Find anything?"
She pulled her hand back empty.
Nothing. She'd found nothing.
I'd expected this. The moment I noticed something extra had been planted in my drawer, I'd thrown it away.
Susan wasn't about to let it go that easily.
She suddenly crouched down, scooped up a black lipstick tube from under my chair, and held it up with exaggerated shock.
"Isn't this my lipstick?!"
"Wasn't the one you lost supposed to have a silver case?"
Susan faltered for a second, then went shrill.
"I just realized this one's missing too! So you stole two of my lipsticks, Rebecca!"
I watched her perform. Not a flicker of guilt in me—I knew I hadn't touched her stuff.
"I don't know anything about it. I didn't take them."
"No idea which lowlife shoved it under there."
Susan's expression couldn't hold together anymore, so she pulled out her trump card.