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Twenty eight: Crazy

I was getting too fearful. My hands were up, but the officer wasn't saying anything further. What had we done? Did we look like criminals or what? 

"Sir, what's our offense?" Roy demanded. What a relief. 

The officer stepped even closer. "Someone reported the sale of drugs in this place."

"Sir!" The shop owner cried as she rushed to him. "That's not true. This is my restaurant, and I can assure you that nothing of such exists here."

"Really?" He glared at her, a ugly simper on his ugly lips. I hated him already, even though I wasn't sure why. "Alright then. When the police are done searching here, we'll know the truth to that."

"But there's—"

"Do not argue with an officer." He pointed his baton at her, seeming quite flustered. What was wrong with this oldie? "If you aren't guilty, then you should keep quiet."

I turned to R

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