The Wistful Silence
The air tasted of ozone and old blood. "Is it done?" Elias asked. His voice was flat. Technical. Mara nodded. She did not look at him. She looked at the wall. The wall was sweating. "Yes," she said. Elias turned away. He adjusted his cufflinks. Silver. Cold. He worked in the city. He worked in the shadows. The building was a monument to silence. Glass and steel. It rose above the streets. It...
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