The Faded River
The rain hit the asphalt in sheets. Grey. Cold. It smelled of wet wool and old coffee. Elias stood by the window. The glass was fogged. He wiped it with his thumb. A circle of clarity. Outside, the parking lot was empty. Just the rain. And the silence. He looked at the file on the desk. Thick. White. Heavy. "Are you ready?" The voice came from the chair. Marcus. Sitting back. Legs crossed. A...
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