The Distant Blade
The champagne in the crystal flute tasted of metal and cold glass, a sharp contrast to the warmth of the office party that hummed around you. You stood by the window, watching the London rain streak the pane, your reflection ghosting over the wet city lights. Elias Thorne, thirty-four, senior actuary, and for the first time in your career, you felt the weight of your own insignificance. You...
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