The Distant Joke
Chapter One My fingers were already slipping when the first drop of ink hit the ledger, a dark bead of betrayal that refused to dry, spreading into a shape that looked disturbingly like the face of the man who had hired me, a look of silent, smiling judgment that had nothing to do with the numbers. I was forty-five, and the hands that had once carved the finest calligraphy in the district were...
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