The Distant Temple
The argument was loud, a sharp crack of voices that echoed off the sterile white walls of the Ministry of Records. Elias Thorne stood with his back to the glass partition, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the mahogany desk. Director Halloway, a man whose suit cost more than Elias’s annual salary, leaned back in his chair, tapping a manicured fingernail against his lower lip. He was...
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