The Pale Protocol
The train shuddered. It stopped. I looked up from my ledger. The window was a mirror. It showed my face. It showed the rain. It showed the station. It was empty. It was not empty. I checked my watch. Three minutes. I checked my bag. The files were there. The keys were there. I was the detective. I was the eye. I was the hand. I was the lie. The fog rolled in. It tasted of coal. It tasted of...
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