The Distant Temple
The termination notice lay on the metal desk, the paper yellowed by three years of damp air and fluorescent hum. It was a standard form, the kind the Northern District used for everything from lost keys to embezzlement, but the language was specific, cold, and final. You read it twice, your breath fogging in the stagnant room, and then you folded it into your coat pocket. Outside, the wind...
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