That she took prescribed medication, yes, but nothing else. That someone must have put it there. The officers exchanged a look she recognized immediately. Not disbelief. Worse. The look people give when they think you’re explaining something to yourself.
“Ma’am,” one of them said, measured and tired, “the packet was found on the floor beside your bag. Multiple staff saw it. You were visibly impaired. We’re not saying you’re a criminal. We’re saying this is how it looks.” “That’s not how evidence works,” Clare snapped, sharper now. “You don’t look guilty. You are or you aren’t.”