The Pale Bonsai
The phone rang at 4:12 in the afternoon, a shrill, mechanical shriek that cut through the stagnant air of the hallway. You answered it on the second ring, your breath hitching in your chest before you even heard the voice on the other end. "Elias," Dr. Aris said, his tone light, almost bored, as if discussing the weather rather than the structural collapse of your life. "I’ve been reviewing the...
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