The Distant Whispers
The hum starts in the back of your throat, a low frequency that feels less like sound and more like a vibration in your molars. You are sitting at your desk in the thirty-second floor of Halloway & Associates, staring at a spreadsheet that blurs into a grid of meaningless numbers. You need the promotion. You need the raise. You need to pay off the medical bills that are currently burying Sarah...
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