The Last Schoolmaster of Blackmoor
ACT I — THE BEGINNING Thomas Harrow coughed into his handkerchief and watched the blood bloom on white linen like a rose pressed too hard. Three drops. Not bad for a Tuesday. He folded the handkerchief carefully, slid it into his pocket, and turned to face the children. The schoolhouse chapel was cold enough to see his breath. Eleven children sat on three benches — some in coats three sizes too...
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