Queen West streetcar
Caucasian female, mid 30s, with long brown hair and black-framed glasses, wearing black jumper dress and long-sleeved T-shirt, a baby sling resting to the side.
Little Brother, Cory Doctorow (Tor Teen)
About halfway through:
Those were the people with something to hide—not guilty people, but people with secrets. There were even more people with nothing to hide at all, but who nevertheless resented being picked up and questioned. Imagine if someone locked you in the back of a police car and demanded that you prove that you’re not a terrorist.
There were those three months her neighbour’s read her mail. The cop was young, younger than her. “May I?” he asked, and grabbed the open envelopes off the kitchen table. She took a long sip, the time it took him to file through each piece, as if it would provide motive. After he left, she pressed her ear to the hall wall and heard him reason that her life wasn’t all that interesting. Perhaps they should take out a magazine subscription, Reader’s Digest or Seasoned Citizen.
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