The Wistful Campus
The ink on the page was still wet, glistening under the harsh halogen light of the desk lamp, when the doorknob turned without a sound. Elias did not look up from the resignation letter he was drafting, his left hand trembling violently against the parchment, the stylus scratching out jagged, erratic lines that had no business forming a coherent sentence. He knew who it was by the smell of...
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