She’s wearing a burgundy sweatshirt, and I resist the urge to read the university seal on the front. I can find out anything on just about anyone. My connections can do things the NSA can only dream of. But for some reason, I don’t want to read about her in a file. I want to hear it from her lips. I need to drip this budding obsession slowly and carefully, if I don't want to become an addict.
