The Distant Temple
The silk was torn, a jagged fissure running through the crimson weave like a vein of blood, and Elias Thorne held the needle with a steadiness that belied the trembling in his wrists. He sat in the sterile, air-conditioned quiet of his office on the forty-second floor of Whitmore & Associates, the actuary’s desk a fortress of spreadsheets and actuarial tables, yet his eyes were fixed solely on...
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