The Faded Guest
The request was simple, but the answer was already in the air before Dr. Aris spoke. "You want the leave, Thorne?" Elias stood in the hallway, his hands still stiff from the antiseptic, the smell of bleach clinging to his cuticles like a second skin. He looked at the director’s desk, a slab of polished oak that seemed to absorb the light from the overhead fluorescents. Aris did not look up from...
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