The Golden Crossing
The letter from the Municipal Health Board lay on the mahogany desk, its seal unbroken but its intent already screaming across the grain of the wood. Elias Thorne, forty-two and junior auditor, read the termination notice for the third time, his fingers tracing the crisp, bureaucratic edge of the paper as if it were a wound. The language was sterile, citing "irregularities in the insulin...
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