The Distant Clue
The hand trembles as it lifts the glass, the water rippling in a chaotic, jagged pattern that fractures the light of the office lamp into a hundred sharp, useless shards. You are Elias Thorne, and you have been staring at this reflection for three minutes, watching the face of a forty-two-year-old man who has spent his life ensuring that numbers balance, now distorted by the stress of a career...
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