The Distant Temple
The hand that trembled was not Elias Thorne’s, but the memory of it, the phantom vibration of a signature he had refused to set on the preliminary actuarial report for the Meridian Pension Restructuring, persisted in the air like a low-frequency hum that only he could hear. He sat at his desk in the forty-second floor of the Kessler & Associates building, the glass walls reflecting a city that...
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