"Jess?" His voice called out, sounding a bit strained as he quickly pocketed his phone, wary of me seeing too much.
"What's up?" I managed to ask, feigning calm.
"Let's stretch our legs and clear our heads with a walk," he suggested, grabbing his jacket from the table and signaling for me to follow.
As he threw on his jacket, something shiny slipped from the lining and clattered to the floor.
It was a knife!
Was he planning on using it outside?
A chill ran down my spine.
Panic set in, and every sense heightened.
No, I couldn't go outside—not with cameras everywhere here in the safety of the hotel.
He bent down swiftly, retrieving the knife.
As it caught the light, I instinctively stepped back, distancing myself while my hands searched behind me.
My fingers closed around a hotel umbrella, which I gripped firmly.
Mike examined the knife, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Huh? How did this fruit knife get in my jacket?"
He casually placed it back on the table, pushing me, "Let's hit the road, come on."
My hands were sweaty, the umbrella handle slipping and falling with a thud.
I looked down and cleared my throat awkwardly, "I think I'll stay in... feeling a bit off, need to sleep early."