The Distant Joke
The termination order was already typed, Director Vance said, his voice carrying the dry, flat cadence of a man reading a menu for a meal he had no intention of eating. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the marble floor, the rain from the courtyard still beading on his dark wool coat, the cold seeping through the fabric to a bone that had felt brittle for weeks. He did not look at the paper...
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