The Wistful Grid
March 12 The memo from Mr. Halloway lay on my desk, the paper thin and gray, smelling of the dust that settles in the basement archives. It was a list of inconsistencies in the 1994 ledger, a charge I had not expected, though I knew the file was missing. I wanted only to find the ledger, to fix the error, and to keep my job before the numbness in my left hand made it impossible to hold a pen....
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