The Pale Verdict
The fluorescent lights of the Meridian Pharmaceutical Boardroom hummed with a frequency that Elias Thorne felt in his teeth, a low, persistent vibration that matched the hollow ache in his stomach. He sat at the far end of the long mahogany table, his suit jacket slightly too tight across the shoulders, the fabric fraying at the cuffs where the fabric had worn thin from years of manual labor...
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