The Wistful Cipher

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2026-08-20 10:13:36 -

The rain had stopped, but the air in the waiting room still smelled of wet wool and stale coffee. Margaret sat on the edge of the vinyl chair, her fingers intertwined so tightly that the knuckles had turned white, mirroring the rigid tension that held her spine straight. Across from her, the detective leaned back, his leather shoes tapping a slow, irregular rhythm against the linoleum floor. He...

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