The Pale Verdict
The hall was thick with smoke and the scent of roasted pork. It was a feast. The chandeliers blazed. The walls wept with condensation. Thomas sat at the high table. He was twelve years old. His hands were steady. He held a fork. The metal was cold. Across the table sat Mr. Sterling. Sterling was old. His skin was tight. His eyes were dry. He spoke to Thomas. He spoke with a smile. "Thomas,"...
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