He does that too easily, too. That suddenly too-careful edge to the patience he's using. At the beginning, she might not have noticed. But, here and now, and after this day, after the cases they've worked? It's impossible. It's that same edge that lines everything else. Everyone else. Sheers it like a cliff break, or a cold breeze. Right at the edge of a glance. A voice. "It's not like every other town."

It's not like any other town she can even think of.
She doesn't look away when she calls him on it, either.

"But you, Nathan," Audrey says turning her chair to face him, and rearranging herself so she can lean on her desk for a moment. "You live in both Haven's, and I think we're going to find that very useful."