The Distant Blade
The blade hung in the air. It did not fall. It suspended itself above the floorboards, three inches from the dust, a line of cold steel defying the pull of the earth. Margaret Holloway held her breath. Her lungs burned. The silence in the room was heavy, a physical weight pressing against her eardrums. She was a detective. Or she had been. The title felt distant now, like a coat left in a...
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