The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-17 17:44:20 -

The rain hit the window like gravel. I stood in the doorway of the town hall. My coat was soaked. The smell of wet wool hung heavy in the air. I was looking for the file. The case was simple. Or so I thought. "You're not supposed to be here," said Miller. He stood by the desk. He held a mug of coffee. His face was pale. He looked tired. Not angry. Just tired. "I'm the lead," I said. "I'm...

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