The Faded River
"You’re going to ruin the batch," Clara said, not looking up from the spreadsheet on her tablet. Her voice was light, almost playful, the kind of tone one uses to point out a smudge on a clean shirt. It was a casual observation, devoid of true malice, yet it hung in the air of the breakroom like a drop of ink in clear water, spreading slowly, darkening the white tiles behind her. Julian did not...
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