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... d quiet that arrives only after a storm of noise—after toys had been packed away, a crying baby soothed, dinner plates rinsed, and the soft thud of a teenager's bedroom door upstairs had clicked shut.
Jake sat in his study, elbows on the desk, the half-shaded lamp casting a diagonal slash of amber across the room. His coffee—cold and forgotten—rested near his wrist. The low hum of the ventilation system barely cut through the stillness.
He flexed the fingers on his right hand. A ...
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