The artifacts inside the trunk twinkled mysteriously under the glow of the streetlight. The pistol replica shimmered, its wooden grip and metallic barrel casting an ominous black shadow behind it inside the confined space. Jenny tried to explain, “They’re just teaching aids, replicas for my history classes.” But the officer was hardly listening.
He seemed particularly interested in the antique-looking pistol. “This looks real,” he said, examining it closely. Jenny’s heart sank. She knew these items were just harmless props, but in the dim light, to an untrained eye, they could seem authentic. In the open trunk, even her lesson plans and signed museum release forms for the teaching materials were visible. But the officer paid them no attention as he rifled through the artifacts.