“He never behaves like this without a reason… never.”

The student trembled, tears filling her eyes. Everyone thought the dog had simply mistaken one scent for another. But the officer insisted:

“Young lady, I’m asking you and your parents to come with me to the station. Something needs to be checked.”

Her parents protested, shouting about the “humiliation in front of the whole class.” But Ted kept growling, and no one could argue with his instincts.

At the station, the girl’s fingerprints were taken. And then—the officers froze in disbelief. The computer pulled up a match. The prints belonged to a woman already listed in the federal database of wanted criminals.

The policeman slowly turned to the trembling “schoolgirl.”

“Do you want to tell us yourself… or should I read the file?”

The girl let out a deep sigh, and suddenly her entire expression changed. The frightened teenager vanished. In her place appeared a cold, hardened woman—eyes that had clearly seen too much.

“Well… enough playing,” she said in a low, steady voice.

Her real name was Anna. She was not 16, but 30. Because of a rare genetic condition, she still looked like a teenager: short stature, childlike features, a thin voice.

Anna had been on the run for years, hiding in different cities. Her record included armed robberies, fraud, and jewel heists. Her fingerprints had been found on safes, door handles, apartments… but every time she escaped capture. Nobody could believe that an “adolescent” was behind such crimes.

She had enrolled in different schools, lived with families under the pretense of being an orphan, and constantly changed names. No one ever suspected that an adult woman was hiding among children.

“No one would have ever recognized me,” she smirked. “If it weren’t for your damned dog.”

“You see, Anna,” the officer said coldly, “people can be fooled. But my partner—never.”