Between scraps
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“I think I can find her,” Megan said aloud, breaking into Robert and Mr. Holloway’s conversation. They both turned to her, surprised. Megan hurried across the room to the little desk by her kitchen, yanking open a drawer.
Paperclips, old receipts, junk mail. She shoved it all aside, digging for the battered address book she knew was buried inside.
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