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My brother actually laughed at dinner and said, ‘I sold that useless laptop of yours for five hundred bucks. Finally got rid of your junk.’ My cousins cheered him on. Then he added, almost proudly, ‘Already handed it off to the buyer.’ I got up, stepped outside, and called my supervisor. By the time I made the report, the FBI cyber team was already tracking the device…

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she frowned at him.

“Derek,” Rachel said under her breath.

“What?” He shrugged. “He wasn’t using it.”

The whole table shifted into that ugly family energy that appears when something bad happens and everyone starts searching for the cheapest version of the truth. The easiest version was that Derek had made some dumb harmless mistake and I was about to continue reading …

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