The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-19 16:01:06 -

The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the gravel drive of the Sterling Group headquarters into a slurry of grey mud that sucked at the tires of the cars waiting to leave. I sat in my office on the forty-second floor, watching the wipers beat a rhythmic, futile tempo against the glass, while the city below blurred into a watercolor of steel and neon. My name was Arthur Penhaligon, and...

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