I lean back on the couch, arms crossed, skeptical but intrigued. "Data analytics? What, you've been spying on us?" My tone's half-joking, but there's a wary edge to it.
She laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends a jolt through me. "Not spying. Just... observing trends. Search histories, social media habits. It's all anonymous. Until it's not." She winks, and I feel my face heat up. Dead bedroom? Maybe she's not wrong, but I'm not about to admit it
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