The Pale Shadows
The rain tapped against the glass of the break room, a steady, rhythmic drumming that matched the pulse in Mara’s temples. She stood by the coffee machine, watching the dark liquid drip into a paper cup. The office smelled of wet wool and stale toner. Around her, the open-plan workspace hummed with the low, ambient noise of keyboards and muted phones. It was a place of gray light and beige...
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