The Distant Promise
The rain fell in sheets against the high windows of the chancery, blurring the city into a smear of gray and amber. I sat in the dark, the silence heavy as wet wool. My hands trembled, not from cold, but from the sheer, crushing weight of what I had found. For years, I had been the architect of truth, a detective who pried open the sealed doors of justice. I believed in the machinery of law, in...
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