The Pale Circus
The letter from the hospital was three pages long, the paper thin and gray, the font a sterile sans-serif that seemed to shrink under the fluorescent hum of the office lights. You read the total for the third time, the number a jagged scar across the page: forty-two thousand dollars, a sum that equaled two years of your senior actuary salary at Halloway & Vance, a firm that had once been a...
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