The Pale Tale
The quarterly audit was three weeks away, and Elias Thorne counted the seconds on his wristwatch as if they were coins in a jar. Forty-two years old, a mid-level actuary, he felt the weight of his own pulse in his throat, a steady, failing drumbeat that he had long ago accepted as a fixed cost of doing business. He wanted to secure his pension before the review board met, a desire so concrete...
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