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Dr. Hunt?
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Mr. Rosas.
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Ethan, did you run those
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trace samples on Elena Rosas?
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Yeah. The blue dye on her finger was too diluted to get a reading on,
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but the crusty trace on her... blouse was milk.
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- Milk? What kind? - Uh... human.
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Go ahead and say it, Ethan.
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Breast milk. Go on.
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Okay, I don't have to. You just did.
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So her baby spit up on her.
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Except Elena wasn't lactating,