You start to notice the stickers as you walk along the last road the 16-year-old ever took. There’s one in the newsagents, another on the door of his local pharmacy and a third in the barbers. The bakery in Lee, southeast London, where he bled to death in his older brother’s arms has one. The church where more than 800 mourners turned out for his funeral has two. Each bears the same legend. “CitySafe Haven: Dedicated to Jimmy Mizen.” Each offers the same thing. Reassurance that this community is guarding its streets.
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