The Wistful Voyage
The coffee in the mug was cold, a dark, stagnant pool that smelled of burnt grounds and institutional despair. "It is a procedural anomaly, Elias." Director Halloway did not look up from the file. His pen hovered over the paper, a black needle waiting to stitch a wound. "The manifest does not match the weight. Three hundred and forty pounds. We have no record of three hundred and forty pounds...
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