The iron hand of american justice { Angelofhumor
It was already six in the evening and Peter Anthony Rogers should have been home from school two hours ago. The boy usually walked home from his school and arrived back around four in the afternoon. However if he was going to be any later for whatever reason, he would usually text either of his parents and let them know. Today was different though, there was no text and when the worried parents called the school, they didn't know where he was either.
Peter was officially missing, and the police had to be involved. It got to around eleven at night when a set of keys jingled in the door and the door opened. It was their eleven year old son, Peter. The naughty boy had actually gone to a concert with his friends, and thought that if he left a crumpled up note on his bedroom nightstand about it, then it would be fine. He'd also switched off his phone so he didn't answer their calls. He had been at a PG13 Concert which he knew his parents wouldn't have permitted him to see, maybe Tony would have but definitely not if it had finished at ten-thirty that night.
The lights came on and Peter was immediately hugged and kissed all over by both of his frantic parents. His eyes widened as he realised he was about to be in BIG trouble, unless he could come up with some sort of lie?
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If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
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