The Faded Guest
The ink on the foreclosure notice was still wet when Julian slammed it onto the oak desk, the paper sliding with a friction that sounded like a bone snapping. "Sign it, Elias. You have no choice." His voice was flat, stripped of the warmth that used to exist between us, and he stood by the window where the gray light of the afternoon filtered through the grime-streaked glass, illuminating the...
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