I called 911.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“My name is Thomas Vaughn. I just found a large quantity of what appears to be methamphetamine hidden under my bed in my home. I need to report this immediately.”
There was a pause on the line. A confused silence. “Sir… you’re reporting that you found drugs in your own residence?”
“Yes. I believe they were planted here to frame me. My seven-year-old daughter left me a note warning me. I haven’t touched anything except to unzip the bag to verify the contents. I need police here now to document this properly.”
“Officers are on their way. Sir, please exit the residence and wait outside. Do not touch anything else.”
I did as instructed. Standing in my driveway again, under the indifferent gray sky, I made one more call.
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