The Wistful Cipher
The ledger weighed four pounds, twelve ounces. Elias Thorne set it on the desk and checked the scale again. The needle held steady, but his hand did not. He pulled the ledger closer, the leather cover cool against his trembling palm. He had been at the Ministry of Cultural Heritage for nineteen years. Nineteen years of dust, of ink, of counting the dead. He needed this pension. He needed it...
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