She didn’t take long because there wasn’t much in it. I held it while she pushed aside used tissues, then extracted one of Evie’s toys that had somehow been tossed inside. My hand on the doorknob felt slick with sweat.
Hoping my voice sounded casual, I asked, “What exactly are you looking for?”
“There was a message about some pills being found in the trash at the incinerator,” she explained.
“What?” There was enough surprise in my tone to sound sincere. How did they know?
My mother shrugged and handed the bin back to me. “We just have to make sure everyone takes their pills. Most likely it was something thrown out by mistake.”
“By who?” I wanted to know.
“They probably don’t know,” my mother admitted. “But the pills are engineered so that when they’re incinerated, they change the color of the flame. It makes it easy for the Collection Crew to tell if any have been thrown away without sifting through the garbage by hand.”