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blurring lines I wouldn't otherwise cross.
Like going to see her the other day, with
an update. That wasn't necessary. I
could have called, but I didn't. I wanted
to see her again. So, here I am standing
on their doorstep when I could have sent
an officer out to take a statement. Cohen
Finley is about my height, probably the
same age, but his hair is greying. It
looks fashionable on him. He welcomes
me in with a handshake and leads me to