The courtroom was chilly, the cold that crept under your skin and made the long day ahead feel even longer. Amelia Grant pulled her cardigan tighter around her shoulders as she glanced at the bustling set of Law and Order. The crew adjusted lights, cameras, and props, filling the air with sharp orders and the hum of equipment. Amelia felt out of place, her nerves frayed from the newness of the experience—and from life itself.

“Extras playing reporters, over here!” called a woman in a headset, ushering a group toward a table stacked with twenty old, battered notebooks. “Pick one and take a seat in the courtroom.”

Amelia shuffled forward, scanning the pile. Some of the notebooks were dog-eared, their covers faded from overuse. Others smelled like old newspapers. Her fingers landed on a black one, its spine intact and edges neatly worn. It felt like a good choice—sturdy, reliable, unassuming. She grabbed a pen from the nearby cup, smiled awkwardly at the woman, and found her assigned seat in the second row of the courtroom.

She had expected hours of waiting interspersed with half-hearted direction, but this was something else. As she settled in, the notebook in her lap, Amelia tried to remember why she’d agreed to this. The extra cash was essential, sure, but sitting here surrounded by strangers, pretending to be someone she wasn’t? It felt like another bad decision in a string of them.

Her daughters’ faces flashed in her mind—Emma, 10, with her boundless curiosity, and Sophie, 6, always clutching her favorite stuffed bunny. They were why she’d taken this gig. For them, she would do anything.

Flipping open the notebook, Amelia let her mind wander as she thumbed through the pages. Most of it was nonsense from previous extras: doodles of flowers and spirals, notes like “Call for pizza after shoot,” and “Remember to smile for camera B.” Some extras had written limericks; others just their names. She smirked, wondering if anyone had left their cell number, hoping a casting director might find it.

And then she saw it…

Her name, scrawled in sharp, angry letters:
“Amelia Grant: You’re not safe. Your daughters aren’t safe. You know who this is. Leave now or pay the price.”

Her breath caught. The room spun around her. The notebook slipped from her trembling fingers onto the polished floor. The sound jolted her, but she barely noticed. How could this be here? Her name—her daughters—it was impossible. She had chosen this notebook at random.

“Ma’am? You okay?” a deep voice asked, startling her.

Amelia looked up to see a security guard, tall and broad-shouldered, with concern etched into his jagged face. His badge read G. Morris.

“I… I don’t know,” she stammered. She fumbled to retrieve the notebook. “Look at this.”

Morris crouched beside her, his dark brows furrowing as he read the threatening message. “That’s… not something you see every day,” he said, his tone grave. “Come with me. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Detective Harper

Detective Harper arrived quickly, a petite woman with piercing eyes that seemed to miss nothing. She introduced herself briskly and asked Amelia to recount everything, from the moment she picked up the notebook to the message inside.

Harper examined the notebook closely. “The handwriting is deliberate. Whoever wrote this wanted you to see it—and wanted to scare you.”

“Well, it’s working,” Amelia said, her voice tight. “But how could they have known I’d pick this notebook?”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” Harper replied. “It’s possible they planned for you to be here and tampered with the props. Do you know anyone who would want to harm you?”

Amelia hesitated. “My ex-husband. Greg. He’s… not well. And he’s been angry since the divorce.”

The Alibi and the Other Man

The footage confirmed the impossible. A man resembling Greg had sneaked onto the set the night before, rifling through the props and notebooks in the pile. Harper’s team acted quickly, issuing an alert and tracking his movements.

But when they apprehended Greg later that evening, Harper called Amelia with an unsettling update.

“Amelia, Greg has an alibi,” Harper said.

Amelia felt her chest tighten. She couldn’t breathe.

“He was at a poker game with six other people that night. They all confirmed it.” Harper paused, her voice tinged with frustration. “But Greg admitted to being involved in another way. He says someone named Donnie Burke forced him to plant the notebook.”

Everybody Owes Somebody

Amelia felt her heart race. Burke. She’d heard that name whispered before, back when Greg’s gambling had been just one more shadow over their marriage. Burke wasn’t just some guy—he was the enforcer for a ruthless loan shark.

Burke, as Harper’s team quickly learned, had a reputation as a man with his own demons. He’d grown up in a tough neighborhood with an abusive father and had been in and out of trouble his whole life. But his latest debts had landed him in a precarious position. Burke himself owed money to someone even higher up the food chain, and now he was stuck—pressured to do the dirty work while trying to dig himself out of a deep hole.

Amelia found herself reluctantly intrigued as Harper and Morris unraveled Burke’s story. When the police tracked him down and brought him in for questioning, Burke didn’t start with threats or bravado. He sat in the cold interrogation room, hands clasped tightly in front of him, and sighed.

“I didn’t want to do this,” he said, his voice low. “I don’t go after women and kids. That’s not me.”

“Then why did you?” Harper pressed, her tone sharp. “You threatened a mother and her daughters. Why?”

Burke glanced at the one-way mirror as if weighing how much he could say. “Because I had to,” he admitted. “Your guy—Grant? He owes a lot. More than he can pay. My boss, he doesn’t care if you’re divorced or married or dead. He told me to send a message, and I sent one.”

“Why the notebook?” Harper asked. “How did you know she’d pick that one?”

Burke’s lips curved into a faint, sardonic smile. “A magician doesn’t reveal his tricks,” he said, his tone dripping with weary amusement.

Harper didn’t bite, but Morris leaned closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over Burke. “You smirking now? You think you’re clever?”

Burke’s smile faded. “No,” he said quietly. “I think I’m stuck. And if you’re gonna lock me up, at least I won’t have to worry about who’s coming after me tomorrow.”

“Think again,“ Burke said

Case Closed or Not?

The confession was enough to seemingly close the case, but it left Amelia with mixed feelings. Burke wasn’t a monster; he was a man trapped in a web of his own mistakes,  just like her. Still, her anger at him paled in comparison to her anger at Greg. For years, Greg’s recklessness had endangered their family, and now, even after their divorce, his choices had nearly cost her everything.

That night, as Harper called to confirm Burke’s arrest, she asked Amelia if she wanted to press charges against Greg. “He’s culpable, too,” Harper said. “You have a right to hold him accountable.”

Amelia hesitated. “I just want him to stay away from me and the girls,” she said firmly. “If he can do that, I’ll leave it at that. He’s still their father.”

The next morning, Amelia packed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, the girls’ favorite. She hugged Emma and Sophie tightly before school. As she watched them run to the bus, she caught her reflection in the window. For the first time, she saw someone capable of protecting her family. Someone strong. Someone free. Or was she?

Postscript: Harper did eventually figure out how Amelia selected the one among many notebooks with the threatening note. If you think you know… how Burke made Amelia find the note, please leave your solution to the mystery in the Comments below. For those who leave a comment, I will e-mail you with the actual answer as to how the trick was done.

-END-

Catch up on my original fast-paced thriller NOT SO DEAD and the Sam Sunborn Series They are available on Amazon and BarnesandNoble.com
If you like short reads you can really finish, grab a copy of my short story collections: The Last Appointment: 30 Collected Short Stories
Or my children’s adventure book: Nougo and His Basketball.

And read for FREE some of Charles Levin’s short stories:

I’m Processing
Books Unread
Nora Delivers the Package
The Permission Slip
10 Life Lessons I Learned from Playing Poker
Missing the Ghost in the Palace Theater
Moon Landing Memories
Word Drunk

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