The Wrong Paper

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2026-06-09 10:15:37 -

The Wrong Paper

The rain in Chicago doesn't wash anything clean. It just makes the grime wetter. I sat in Verna's bar on South State Street and watched the water run down the window and thought about contracts. I'm Jack Malloy. I'm thirty-two and I've been fired from more jobs than I can count, for reasons that were usually legitimate and sometimes weren't. I served in the war—not the big one, the one before...

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