The Distant Temple
Elias Thorne’s hand trembled as he adjusted the decimal point on the spreadsheet, the cursor blinking in the grey light of the office. The number did not settle. It pulsed, a tiny red eye staring back at him, demanding a correction that no actuarial formula could provide. Outside, the damp air of Harrow’s Bay pressed against the windowpanes, carrying the smell of rotting kelp and old stone. He...
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