“Got anything else in your pockets, Mara?” I blinked. “Um, string or nothing?” “Excuse me?” I raised my eyebrows. “The Hobbit?” He looked concerned. “A what?” “It’s a book,” my father piped up. He met my gaze and winked. Mr. Robins looked from my father to me. “You have a book in your pocket?” I tried very hard not to sigh. “There’s nothing in my pockets, is what I meant.”
