I Found the Envelope — But It Wasn’t Mine

Leaving the bank, the envelope still unopened in my hand, I stepped out into the chilly October air. My mind buzzed with questions and theories, none of which settled comfortably. As I walked down the street, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number for customer service, hoping to get some clarity. « Thank you for calling, how can I assist you today? » the voice on the other end was bright and automated. After navigating through a labyrinth of options, I finally reached a human operator. « Yes, I need to inquire about a flag on my account, » I stated, trying to maintain a steady tone. The operator, a woman named Lisa according to her introduction, asked for my account number and details. As I read them out, I could hear her typing away, the sound mingling with the ambient noise of the city around me. « I see there have been several transactions flagged for review, » Lisa said, her voice more empathetic than James’. « We’re working to resolve this as quickly as possible. »