The Distant Whispers
The fluorescent lights of the faculty office hummed with a low, electric irritation that seemed to vibrate directly against Elias Thorne’s teeth. He stood before the mahogany desk of Dean Whitmore, his left hand clamped tightly behind his back, the fingers trembling with a violent, rhythmic spasm that he could not control. On the desk lay a single sheet of paper, the liability waiver he had...
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