The Wistful Witness
The first thing Margaret noticed was not the smell of ozone, nor the way the fluorescent lights flickered in a rhythm that felt less like electrical fault and more like a failing pulse, but the absence of sound. The open-plan office of Hargrove & Sons, an actuary firm that prided itself on the quiet certainty of its numbers, had gone silent. It was a silence with weight, a physical pressure...
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