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Synopsis

“…when I got back from a cut-and-shave one rainy Tuesday in late May and found a woman curled up in the overstuffed recliner parked outside my office door, I was blind sided. Not because I didn’t recognize her.
Because I didn’t smell the trouble.
Smelled cinnamon and spice and something I couldn’t quite identify trying to take over the stale office air, but I didn’t smell trouble. …”

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