The Pale Verdict
The fire started in the attic. It ate the rafters first. Then the floor. By the time the smoke curled down the stairs, Elias Thorne was already in the yard. He held the door open. He watched the flames take the house. He did not run. He stood still. The heat pushed against his face. It felt like a hand. A heavy, red hand. He wore his gray suit. The one from the funeral. The buttons were new....
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