The Distant Wound
The file is corrupted. Elara Vance stared at the red warning light on the console, the hum of the server farm vibrating in her molars. It was the same light she had seen for three weeks, a stubborn, pulsing denial of her request. She needed the unedited audio logs from Julian’s final forty-eight hours, the ones the Bureau had scrubbed and replaced with a sanitized summary of "voluntary...
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