The Wistful Skyline
The rain lashed against the single pane of glass in Halloway’s office, a rhythmic drumming that seemed to mock the silence between you and your mentor. Inspector Halloway sat behind his heavy oak desk, the brass letter opener catching the dim gaslight, his face a map of lines carved by decades of service to a system that demanded obedience above all else. He did not look up when you entered,...
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