Page 357 - Anonymous
P. 357

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
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