Confession #23109 – The Wrong Room, Right Key

You know how hotel hallways all look the same after a certain hour? Yeah. I’d gone downstairs for ice. That’s it. Just ice. I was in pajamas, hotel key shoved in the pocket, barefoot in borrowed slippers. I filled the little plastic bucket, hummed my way back up the elevator, walked to “my” door, and let myself in without thinking. It took a full three seconds before my brain realized two things at once: There was luggage in the room…