The Golden Crossing
"Sign here. Here. And here." The pen felt heavy. It felt like iron. I signed. The ink was black. It looked like blood. It did not bleed. It just sat there. Dried. Dead. "You're breaking protocol, Elena," said Director Halloway. His voice was soft. It was the sound of a leaf skittering across concrete. "We don't just erase people. We process them." "I am not a file," I said. My voice shook. I...
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