The Pale Protocol
The rain had not stopped for three days, a steady, gray curtain that blurred the world outside the high windows of the Ashworth estate. Elias sat at the long oak table in the library, his fingers tracing the spines of books he did not need to read, for the text was already burned into the back of his eyelids. He was fourteen, old enough to understand the weight of the house, young enough to...
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