Some accidents take ten years to become murders. I own a coffeehouse. Ten years ago, a woman died on my floor, ruled an accident before I ever owned the place. I didn't know her - but I know an accident doesn't need a whole town's cooperation to stay quiet for a decade. Only a murder does. Somebody's just handed me a reason to want answers fast, and I don't believe in convenient timing. Pour yourself a cup, Detective. This one's been cooling for ten years, and I intend to serve it properly hot.
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