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Smokes and Mirrors

The pounding on the door grew louder, rattling through the walls.

Before Vincent could move, the lock gave way with a sharp crack, and two police officers burst into the bedroom. Their flashlights cut through the dim light, sweeping over the scattered papers and overturned drawers.

I forced myself to step forward, blocking their view of the far side of the room where Vincent hid under the bed.

“Ma’am,” one officer said, his voice firm, “we received a report of a break-in. ...

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