The Pale Echo
The invoice lay on the desk, the ink still wet, smelling of cheap carbon and regret. Elias Thorne stared at the figure in the bottom right corner, three thousand pounds, a sum that represented three months of rent, two months of food, and the remaining debt to his brother’s medical fund. He picked up the pen, the cap clicking against his thumb, and refused to sign. The number was a lie, a...
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