The Faded Attic
Thorne. The name hits you like a slap of cold air. Miller is standing in the doorway of your office, his tie loosened, his face a mask of bureaucratic indifference. He is not here to talk. He is here to execute. "Your testimony is inadmissible," he says. His voice is flat, devoid of inflection. "Hearsay. We can’t build a case on your memory, Elias. The audit protocol is clear. You are a...
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