The Distant Affair
The heavy wool coat of your sister, Margaret, hangs on the back of your chair, its hem dragging slightly across the linoleum of the Ministry of Records. It is a garment of profound weight, stitched from a fabric that has seen better decades, and in the fluorescent hum of the archive room, it serves as the sole tether to the world before the audit began. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-four years...
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