The rain hit the window like broken glass. Jack Moran watched it...

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2026-06-03 18:46:07 -

The rain hit the window like broken glass. Jack Moran watched it from his office window on the fourth floor of the Commerce Building, watching Chicago spread out below him like a wet photograph—neo...

Six months. Six months in this windowless room with a coffee machine that made water taste like regret, a desk covered in paper and pens and empty whiskey bottles, and a wall clock that ticked like a bomb. "Moran." He didn't turn. He knew who it was. Richardson's voice was like gravel in a blender—always sounded like the man was apologizing while breaking something. "You got a visitor." "Tell...

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