The Pale Circus
The severance package was forty thousand dollars. I looked at the number on the screen, then at Halloway’s face. He sat behind the mahogany desk, his tie a dull red, his hands folded with the calm of a man who had never once worried about the price of milk. I had spent three months pulling threads from the Meridian Trust’s ledgers, three months of late nights and cold coffee, driven by the...
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