The Wistful Crossroads
Thorne, you are late. The voice of Director Halloway cut through the humid air of the Ministry’s central atrium, sharp and administrative. Elias Thorne adjusted the strap of his satchel, his fingers trembling slightly against the leather. He was forty-two, a senior archivist, and he had spent the last three years trying to become invisible, a function of the filing system rather than a man. But...
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