All of the sudden the woman froze. Ben watched the faade she had worn the whole time melt from her face. The long, thin hand slid the hundred out of its holder, then the arm slowly retracted until the fingers grasped the handle of the box and shoved it forcefully closed again. Grace spun mechanically back towards her counterfeit customer, her eyes penetrating his. She was no longer the unassuming little blonde who had greeted him. Her lower jaw shifted strangely from side-to side and she never dropped her gaze. She had the look of someone seriously plotting her next move.

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