Ryder's head snapped up. His thoughts interupted by someone banging into him. His hand automatically closed around the clipping before shoving it as gently as he could into his jeans pocket.

When the boy said something, he looked a little older than Ryder, but he couldn't be sure, Ryder turned his attention to him. "Not that I know of," he said, a hint of worry to his voice. "At least, I sure hope it's not," he continued. "No, it can't be..." he muttered to himself.