The Wistful Ashes
The intake form lay flat on the steel table, its edges curling slightly in the dry, recycled air of the ward. Elias Thorne stared at the signature line, his hand hovering above the paper, the tremor in his fingers making the pen jump like a trapped bird. He was a Senior Enforcer, a man who had spent twenty years enforcing the State Wellness Bureau’s protocols, yet here he was, reduced to a...
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