The Wistful Witness
The form is incomplete, Elias. Colonel Halloway did not look up from the parchment. His pen moved with the dry, scratching precision of a scribe copying a death warrant, the scratch of the nib against the heavy stock paper filling the small, windowless office like the sound of a mouse gnawing on wood. You stood in the center of the room, your hands clasped behind your back, feeling the cold...
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