Burnt Toast

 

The smell of burnt toast filled the kitchen.

I had tried to do many things at once. I put bread in the toaster, tossed fruits into the blender for a quick smoothie, rushed into the shower, then came back to iron my clothes. I took a final look at my presentation slides as well. Multitasking, they said, wasn’t for men, but I was running late. I had an important presentation at work and had already slept through several alarms.

I scraped off the burnt parts of the toasted bread, gulped it down, took a few sips of the smoothie, and rushed out of the house. My laptop was in one hand, a file in the other with the rest of the smoothie in a covered cup, my phone in my pocket, and barely held on to my car keys as I struggled to lock the front door.

I got into my car. It was unlocked. Maybe I had forgotten to lock it the night before. The previous day had been stressful, and I had fallen asleep on the couch, too tired to even change out from my work clothes.

I turned the key. The engine barely sparked. I tried again. Nothing. Silence. Not today. Of all days, my Toyota Highlander chose today to fail. I didn’t have time to check what was wrong. I needed to get to work.

I ordered an Uber. It was eight minutes away which was too long, but I had no choice. I waited impatiently, blaming myself for not waking up earlier. The car finally arrived after ten minutes, and we set off.

Despite everything, I looked sharp in my neatly pressed blue long-sleeved shirt and black suit. I had planned to make a grand entrance at the office, but the morning had already dampened my spirits.

I arrived about fifteen minutes late. Thankfully, the meeting hadn’t started yet. I quickly set up and, once everyone arrived, delivered the best pitch of my career. I was the marketing manager of a real estate company. We were preparing to showcase a property the owner wanted sold quickly. The building was beautiful, though the location wasn’t ideal. It was a three and a half-bedroom apartment with a medium-sized swimming pool.

We discussed staging, called in interior decorators, and fixed a date for the open house. I also mentioned that I already had a few potential clients in mind.

My office was at the far left of the floor, with large windows and a clear view of the city. We had recently moved buildings. In our old office, I shared space with Jessica, Ben, and Linda. Now, we all had separate offices.

After the meeting, I called George, my mechanic. He had a spare key to my car, and we had known each other for eight years. I asked him to take the car to his workshop to check what was wrong so that I could pick it up after work.

Later, as I sat at my desk finishing a few tasks, there was a knock on my door. Two police officers stood outside. My heart raced. Was something wrong with my family? Was any of my clients suing me or something? Or were they interested in getting some property? I wondered.

They introduced themselves as Officer Dan and Officer Alex. I offered seats and water but they declined.

They told me they had received an anonymous tip that there were drugs in my car and needed to search it. I was stunned. Drugs?, In my car? I had never seen drugs before or even knew what they looked like.

I explained that my car was faulty and still at home. My mechanic hadn’t gone for it yet. The officers advised me not to make any statements until after the search and suggested I get a lawyer just in case anything went wrong. They made it clear I was not under arrest. I gave my consent for the search as I had nothing to hide, and they also had a search warrant based on the anonymous tip.

Everyone watched as I left with the police. Since I wasn’t under arrest, some probably assumed it was work related.

When we arrived at my house and searched the car, they found drugs. Five hundred grams of cocaine which had been wrapped and was under the back seat.

I was shocked, sweaty and confused. Where did it come from? My world collapsed.

I really hoped it was all a misunderstanding and I would be back to my office in no time.

I was taken to the station, questioned, photographed, and placed in a cell. I called my lawyer. Everything felt unreal except the tears that fell freely down my face.

My lawyer, William, came to see me but I had no answers for his questions. I was innocent, yet the evidence said otherwise. This was a serious offense, one that could ruin my life. My parents were informed and came to see me. My mother cried nonstop. My father tried to be strong, but I could see the fear and confusion in his eyes.

The next day, William told me the police were reviewing CCTV footage from nearby buildings as I had insisted on being innocent. I prayed they would find something.

Later that evening, he returned with news. The footage showed someone approaching my car early that morning, carrying something and leaving empty-handed. When I watched the video, my confusion deepened.

It was Vanessa, my former colleague from my previous real estate company. We had been competitors. Before I left, I had secured a fifty-million deal she had wanted badly. The commission on the property was huge. Everyone praised me and that must have made her jealous.

She knew my car. I had driven it for years, and I hadn’t changed my apartment.

She had started using drugs after I left the company and became obsessed with how much she believed I had cost her money, opportunities, and status. Planting the drugs in my car was her revenge.

After further investigations, Vanessa was arrested. She had worn gloves and a hoodie to try to hide her identity, but the evidence was clear. The investigators also discovered that she had tampered with my car, to ensure I wouldn’t drive it to work that morning.

A few days later, the charges against me were dropped.

I was free. Grateful but a little shaken. It was terrifying to think a day could begin with something as ordinary as burnt toast and unravel into complete chaos.

Image from Adobe Stock