The Distant Clue
Chapter One Did I really think that shouting could stop the flood? I stood in the middle of the break room, my hands still wet from mopping the linoleum, and watched the water seep under the door. The microwave on the shelf, a beige rectangle that had outlived our marriage, hummed with a low, indifferent vibration. It was the third year of the buyout, the year the firm decided that our survival...
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