The Wistful Cipher
"The file is missing, Văn Hung. Or you are." I looked up from the counter, my hand still resting on the cold steel of the register. The fluorescent light buzzed, a low hum that seemed to vibrate in my teeth. It was 2008, and the heat in the break room was a physical weight, pressing against my shoulders like a wet blanket. I was a seasonal tax preparer, a job that required precision and...
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