The Distant Affair
The letter from Vane sat on the mahogany desk, its cream paper stark against the dark wood, and Elias read the figures for the third time, the ink dry and permanent, a contract for his own soul written in the language of actuarial precision. He was forty-two years old, a senior actuary at Whitmore & Sons, an insurance firm that had once been a pillar of the city’s financial district but now...
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