The Pale Banner
The ledger had forty-two entries missing, and the weight of that absence pressed against my temples like a damp cloth. I counted them again, my finger tracing the ruled lines of the industrial safety log, each stroke a small act of defiance against the tremor in my hand. Fifty-four years old, and my heart felt less like a muscle and more like a rusted hinge, creaking with every beat. I needed...
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