The Faded Apartment
The pen hovered over the ledger, the nib trembling not from cold but from the sheer weight of the numbers Arthur Vane had just uncovered. It was a discrepancy of four pounds, six shillings, and two pence, buried in the column for the Whitmore Insurance Exchange’s quarterly premium adjustments. To any other clerk, it would have been a rounding error, a ghost in the machine of the exchange’s...
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