August 30, 2017:

His hair went white, almost overnight, like a parody of a horror film. Except it was true: it was the stress of dodging murder night after night which triggered the mutation, like a signal flare or a blinking neon sign: STUFF IS FUCKED UP.

He's tempted to say she cost him his retirement, but he knows that's not true. He made the decisions, they were no-one's choices but his own. He'll work till he's seventy to recoup the losses.

With bright white hair as badge of experience.