Carl and Kassie seem like a nice enough couple. The two of them, both tall, dark-haired and handsome, lounge on a couch in a recently renovated office space on the 11th floor of a building in Midtown Manhattan. They stand up to shake our hands as we walk inside.
Carl crosses his arms and rocks back on the heels of his feet. “So, you think you’re ready for this?”
For the next hour, we’re going to be locked inside a room with him and Kassie. It’s a small, maybe 30-by-40-foot space, with two windows, a cabinet and a table with the remnants of a poker game scattered across its top
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