The Golden Visit
The file is wrong. You say it before you have finished looking at it, the words escaping your mouth with the dry crack of a branch snapping under a boot. Mara looks up from her desk, her hands hovering over the keyboard, and for a second the only sound in the records room is the hum of the ventilation system, a low, constant drone that has been eating your sanity for twenty years. She asks if...
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