The Wistful Silence
"You’re tired, Elias. I can see it in your eyes." Colonel Vance’s voice cut through the humid air of the banquet hall, dry and final, dismissing my request for a transfer to the administrative office in Boise before I could even finish speaking. The room was packed with agents and their spouses, the air thick with the smell of stale beer and expensive perfume, and the chandeliers above us cast...
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