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Chapter 398: A Killer
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... p> He was in his small bedroom. He was just... sitting. He had been sitting for an hour. He was watching the replay of the game on his laptop. He saw his pass. The one he curled with the outside of his boot. He saw Mark. He saw the cold, perfect, one touch poke. He saw the celebration. Mark, standing in front of the silent, angry Tottenham fans, his finger to his lips.
It was, Alex thought with his analyst brain, perfect. The data was perfect. The story was perfect.
His phone, wh ...
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