"I wasn't selling anything."
Adrian Hawthorne was perfectly calm. The photos were all sold out, so they wouldn't find anything even if they searched him. Besides, he was just a child. They couldn't possibly send him to a labor camp.
The staff member was a man in his forties. He was tall and broad with a square face, giving him a naturally authoritative air. The other passengers who had bought photos were so scared they didn't dare make a peep, lowering their heads and pretending they hadn't seen a thing.
"If you weren't selling anything, why was such a large crowd gathered? What's in the bag?"
The man wasn't so easily fooled. Adrian Hawthorne willingly handed over his bag. Inside were the six meat buns he had bought earlier. He had stuffed all the cash from selling the photos into the pockets of his clothes.
"Mister, can you please leave me one meat bun? I haven't had a meat bun in so long..."
