Lyle Prather stood in his darkened office, staring at his reflection. Past his reflection, he could see the lights of the city spreading out ahead of him. The ice in the glass he held shifted, melting and readjusting to the space available. The clattering sound brought him out of his reverie and he took a sip from his glass.
Thanksgiving had lost meaning for Lyle Prather five years before, when he lost his family in a battle between self-appointed "protectors." Instead he just worked that day and spent his evening alone. It reminded him of his mission. He regarded the ice for a few moments before looking back up to the window. When he did, he saw in the reflection that he was no longer alone.
"Hi there, Lyle," said the red-headed man behind him. He wore a white suit and a green button...
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