The Wistful Dinner
The audit clock on the wall of the Meridian Institute lobby ticked with the heavy, mechanical precision of a debt collector. Elias Thorne counted the seconds until his access badge would expire, four hundred and twelve ticks in total, a number that felt less like time and more like a weight pressing against his sternum. He stood in the center of the lobby, a space so sterile it seemed to have...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare