The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-24 00:03:08 -

The Pale Bonsai

Elias. The name hit the back of my throat like a stone. I looked up from the clipboard. Agent Miller stood in the doorway, his breath pluming in the cold air of the processing room. He was holding a box. It was a standard-issue evidence crate, wood and metal, smelling of pine and damp. "Sign here," Miller said. His voice was flat, bored. "And here. And here." I signed. The ink bled into the...

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