The Faded Apartment
The rain in the Capitol courtyard did not fall so much as it hung, a suspended grey curtain that turned the marble steps into a slick, treacherous mirror of the sky above. Elias Thorne, forty-five years old and bearing the weight of twenty-two years of federal service in the rigid line of his spine, stood with his service weapon drawn, the barrel trembling not from fear but from the sheer,...
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