The Wistful Petal
The document lay on the scarred surface of the desk, a thin sheet of heavy cream paper that smelled faintly of ozone and old grease, and Elias Thorne read the words twice before he signed his name with a hand that trembled only slightly. It was a letter of termination, or rather, a notice of "structural review," written in the crisp, impersonal script of Mr. Vane, the new owner who had bought...
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