The Pale Circus
The light in the open-plan office of Halloway & Sons was the color of old dishwater, a flat, yellowish smear that seemed to seep into the pores of everyone who worked there, and it was in this sterile glow that Elias Thorne first noticed the delay. He was thirty-four, an actuary of mid-level competence and high anxiety, and he wanted the Senior Partner seat that had been vacant since the sudden...
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