The Distant Nightmare
The pen hovered over the spreadsheet, its tip trembling slightly as Elias Thorne’s finger pressed the trackpad. The glass walls of his office hummed with the low-frequency vibration of the HVAC system, a sound that had become indistinguishable from his own blood. Across the table, Mr. Vance did not look up from the tablet in his hands. The air in the room smelled of stale coffee and the...
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