(Cont.)

As they rattle on about what to do with me, something catches my eye. There, in Uncle's left hand. There are two scraps of paper that weren't there before. I bend down and grab them, then play the movement off as tying my shoe when the policemen look.

I quickly slip the paper scraps into my pocket while they're distracted. Whatever's going on, these papers are important. They just magically appeared. I'll study them when this all calms down.

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