The Distant Affair
"Stop staring at the screen, Martha. It’s not going to fix itself." The voice was not loud, but it carried the weight of a closing door. It was Mr. Hale’s voice. It was always like that. A low, gravelly hum that seemed to vibrate in the fillings of my teeth. I looked up from the spreadsheet. The numbers blurred, a cascade of red and black pixels that meant nothing to him and everything to me....
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