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Jason approached cautiously, his senses on high alert. He peered through the peephole, taking in the figure outside: a woman in a sleek black trench coat, her face obscured by a baseball cap, mask, and sunglasses. Even with the disguise, Jason clocked her immediately—Christine. The subtle curve of her posture, the way she held herself, those telltale features that no mask could fully hide. ’Not bad for a superstar,’ he thought, smirking. ’She’s got the paranoid routine down pat.’
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