The Pale Door
The crack runs through the center pane like a frozen river. You press your thumb against the glass, feeling the cold bite through your glove, and know the job is not finished. It is never finished until the light bends exactly as you intend. "Thorne," Sterling’s voice cuts through the hum of the HVAC system, sharp and sterile. "Stop polishing the mirror and look at the clock. The audit is in...
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