The Wistful Incense
The memo was printed on heavy, cream-colored stock, the kind that felt expensive in the hand, and it stated, in a font that was almost too small to read, that the legacy ledger from 1994 through 2002 required a full audit by Friday, a deadline that hung in the air of the fourth-floor office like a threat. Elias Thorne, forty-two, a man whose life had been measured in actuarial tables and the...
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