It wasn't that Maggie enjoyed playing her skillful game
every Tuesday. It’s just that she
couldn't stop
herself from doing it. The first time she did it,
she was eleven – just four months after her mother had died.
Now twenty-two, she was a pro. And even though there were no
fans to cheer her on, she didn’t mind.
Still, she missed not being able to brag about it to her
friends or show them her trophies. That would be dangerous.
She could easily ply her craft in any city, and at any age. Maggie was a great shoplifter.
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