The Wistful Atlas
Thorne. The name hung in the air of the actuarial office, sharp and dry as a snapped twig, spoken by the Chief Underwriter, Mr. Halloway, who stood before the glass partition with the rigid posture of a man measuring the distance to a precipice. Elias Thorne looked up from the ledger. The ink was still wet on the final page, a dark smear that seemed to pulse against the cream-colored paper. His...
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