The Pale Bonsai
Elias Thorne, the voice of Mr. Vane cut through the sterile hum of the glass-walled conference room, sharp as a paper cut on the skin of the morning, and Elias felt the weight of the silence settle onto his shoulders like a wet wool coat. He was forty-two years old, an actuary of mid-level rank, and he wanted nothing more than the promotion that would cover the escalating costs of his mother’s...
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