consciousness/training/amygdala_stories/stories/trusting.txt

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She handed him the keys and the codes to the safe and the list of her logins and the instructions for the dog, and she didn't second-guess any of it. He was not a saint. He was a person she had known for fifteen years, and in those fifteen years he had done what he said he would do. When she got on the plane she did not spend the flight worrying. She read her book. She slept. Twice, on landing, she thought to check in and both times decided she didn't need to. He had the keys. The dog was fine. She knew this the way she knew her own hand.