The Wistful Ashes
The hand of Director Halloway trembled as the security detail guided him toward the elevator, his fingers brushing the brushed-steel railing with a friction that sounded like a dry leaf skittering across pavement. Elias, thirty-four years old and seated at his terminal in the administrative wing, did not look up from his screen, though the weight of the moment pressed against his sternum like a...
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