The Distant Clue
The rain against the window of the third-floor office at St. Jude’s Community Health Center sounded like a steady, low static, a white noise that seemed to dampen the sharp edges of the world outside. Margaret Holloway sat in the corner, her back straight, her hands folded in her lap. She was a woman of fifty-two, her hair pulled back in a severe bun, her face mapped with the fine lines of a...
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