Sample V-07: The Mirror's Edge
(New York Realism) I remember the first time I saw him. He wasn't in a cage; he was in a small, dimly lit office in a nondescript building in Midtown. He looked like any other consultant—grey suit, polished shoes, a voice that sounded like it belonged in a university lecture hall. "Sit down, Clarice," he had said. "Tell me about the noise in your head." I was a rising star in the FBI, a woman...
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