Although the little girl was still scared, this time she manned up a bit, pursed her lips, held tight to her bag, and glared with wide eyes at the other party, saying, "I'm sorry, but I can't give you this bag. I will hand it over to the police uncle and let him return it to the bag's true owner."
"What true owner, this bag is mine, I am the owner of this bag, just give it back to me," the old lady said with an ugly expression on her face.
"But what you said doesn't match what's inside the bag," the little girl calmed down, her mind, and articulation becoming exceptionally clear.
The old lady's face turned dark as she said, "Who says it doesn't match? This is my bag. Is it not allowed for me to remember it wrong because I'm old?" After speaking, she snatched the bag from the little girl's hand, pushed through the crowd that had gathered to watch the commotion, and quickly turned to leave. Before she left, she didn't forget to shoot a fierce glare at the little girl.
