The Pale Shadows
"Did you even read the memo, Elias?" The question hangs in the air, sharp and dry, cutting through the humid stillness of the fourth floor. Halloway stands by the window, his back to you, watching the rain blur the city into a grey smear. You hold the draft report in your hands, the paper feeling heavy, damp with the sweat of your own anticipation. You are thirty-four years old, and for the...
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