The Pale Tower

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2026-08-18 15:26:09 -

The Pale Tower

The bell in the clock tower of St. Jude’s Industrial Infirmary did not ring so much as it shuddered, a deep, metallic groan that seemed to vibrate through the soles of Eleanor’s boots. It was the hour for the evening shift change, a time when the air in the corridors always tasted of copper and stale lavender, the scent of the antiseptic solutions used to scrub the floors of the quarantine...

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