The Pale Letter

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2026-08-18 06:46:56 -

The Pale Letter

The porcelain teacup sat on the mahogany desk, a small, white island in a sea of shadowed paperwork. It was a delicate thing, thin as a wafer, holding a cup of tea that had long since gone cold. Margaret did not touch it. She sat behind the desk in the corner of the Governor’s office, a room that smelled of floor wax and old money, watching the clock on the wall tick with a patience that felt...

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