The Envelope

The street lamps were the only source of light glowing off the uneven streets. Each dreary-looking suburban house had the curtains pulled or the shutters closed.
It was an unusually warm night, and the breeze could not be felt; although the leaves on the trees twitched and the grass shuddered quietly. The silence was almost unnatural. Even the steady chirp of the crickets was absent.
The eery, peaceful scene was interrupted by a pair of headlights peering down the street. A red Mazda crawled slowly toward a house at the end of the road; whose sprinklers had just started up. The Mazda slowed to an inaudible stop in front of the house, but the engine kept running. The passenger door opened, and a young girl with lanky, dirty-blonde hair and nervous eyes climbed out, taking caution to shut the door with as little sound as possible. She crept around the car, up the driveway, and to the front door in seconds, then grasped the doorknob. Before turning it, she glanced back fleetingly at the dark form watching her from the driver’s seat.
The door was locked, as the girl suspected it to be; but she simply removed the smallest stone on the wall and took the spare key, then turned it in the lock. Breathing shallowly, the girl slid inside and made her way through the darkness into the living room, and then the office down the hall. The door was wide open; a lamp dimly illuminated the cold steel file cabinets, the cluttered desk against the wall, and the rows of bookshelves that held stiff and dusty books that had never been opened.
Breathing an inward sigh of relief that the room was unoccupied, the girl approached the file cabinet marked B-C3. She slid the drawer open, thumbed the dividers anxiously, then paused as her finger touched the one she was looking for. She pulled out a thin manila envelope that was unmarked- except for the great amount of scotch tape that was wrapped around it.
Now that she had found what she was looking for, the girl stuffed it inside her shirt and tiptoed out of the office at a run. In the hurry, she had forgotten to close the cabinet.
Briskly, but deliberately, the girl locked the door behind her and flew across the lawn - through the sprinklers - and settled back into the passenger seat, letting out a shaky sigh and retrieved the envelope.
“È così?” asked the low voice of the dark figure next to her. The girl looked at it and replied, “Yes. This is it.”
The car stayed parked in front of the house - the engine still running - as the two passengers eyed the taped up envelope.
After a moment of disquiet, the man asked- “Pensi che se ne accorgeranno?”
And his question was answered. As soon as the porch light flicked on.