“You las-died me! Annoying!”—the little girl rolls her eyes. The kid lies on the asphalt and pretends that I hit her with the car. Her body is contorted, her face twists, her tongue sticks out.
“I don’t believe you,” I mutter quietly.
After my hint about the police, the little scammer suddenly jumps up and runs. The eyewitnesses’ eyes bulge with surprise. They thought I had actually hit a child.
But I’m not laughing. A wallet and important documents are gone from the car. And to reach the girl’s accomplices, I have to catch her.
“Am I not allowed to go to the police!” the girl cries in desperation. “They’ll poison me with mean child-care officials! And I need to take care of my mom!”
Chasing the girl, I still didn’t know she would lead me to the one I’d been trying to forget for a long time—but it never worked out. And the little brat would turn out to be her daughter.