The Faded Apartment
The heavy oak door of the apartment on the fourteenth floor of the Ashworth building groaned as Marcus pulled it shut, the sound a low, mournful creak that seemed to vibrate in the hollow of his chest. He leaned his forehead against the cool, unyielding wood, his service jacket still zipped to the chin, the fabric damp with the rain that had lashed the city streets for the last three hours. The...
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