The Pale Fracture
"You are going to be late, Gerald, and the Inspector will have your scalp for a trophy if you are not standing at your post before the first whistle blows," the voice from the doorway said, dripping with a sweetness that felt like oil on water, a cloying, suffocating perfume that hung in the stagnant air of the small, windowless room where Gerald sat hunched over a ledger that had not been...
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