The Distant Nightmare
The memo was printed on heavy, cream-colored stock, the kind that felt expensive and final under the thumb. Elias Thorne held it in his left hand, the paper cool and dry against his palm, while his right hand rested on the mouse, the plastic slick with a faint sheen of sweat. Director Halloway stood behind him, not looking at the screen, but looking at Elias, his gaze a flat, assessing line....
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