The heavy oak door of Archive Room 12-B swung open with a dry groan of brass hinges. Overhead fluorescent tubes flickered to life in a blinding, buzzing sequence, flooding the cavernous archive with harsh, sterile white light. Tessa and Adrian were pressed together inside the twelve-inch gap between Shelving Unit 08 and Shelving Unit 09. The motorized steel racks, packed with thousands of pounds of green buckram file boxes, formed…
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