The Wistful Mirror

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2026-08-20 18:06:05 -

The rain had been falling on the roof of the precinct for three days, a persistent, grey drumming that seemed to synchronize with the slow ticking of the clock in the captain’s office. I sat in the leather chair, the kind that creaked under the weight of a man who had forgotten how to rest, and watched the water streak the windowpane. It was a blurring of the world outside, turning the brick...

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