The Pale Bonsai
The branch was too thick for the shears, and the weight of it made Elias’s arms tremble. "It is a trap," Elias said, his voice thin in the damp air of the basement. "You set it, Mr. Vane. To see if I would cut away the evidence." Mr. Vane did not look up from the ledger he was balancing on the crate. He tapped the column of figures with a pencil, a dry, rhythmic sound that seemed to echo off...
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