The Pale Shadows
The demolition order lay on the steel table, the signature line a thin, waiting mouth. Elias Thorne stared at it, the ink smudged where his thumb had rested, wondering if the paper would burn if he held it long enough. It did not. It was just paper, cheap and fibrous, smelling of the cheap toner that Halloway insisted on using to save the department three cents a page. Outside the window, the...
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