The Pale Verdict
The gavel struck the wood with a sound like a bone snapping. It was a dry, hollow crack. It echoed in the high vaulted ceiling of the Department of Ethical Standards. Margot Vane stood at the center of the room. She did not look at the committee. She looked at the table. On the table lay the artifact. It was a pair of spectacles. The left lens was gone. The right lens was a jagged shard, a web...
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