The Wistful Silence
The memo lay on the steel bench, its edges curling slightly from the humidity of the glasshouse. It was a standard Institute form, white and sterile, detailing the immediate suspension of Elias Thorne’s access to the experimental wing pending an audit of his recent expenditures. Elias read it twice, his fingers stained green with chlorophyll and sap, before he looked up at Director Halloway,...
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