The Distant Affair
"Did you see the mark on the ledger?" Margaret Holloway did not look up. Her pen hovered over the page, a black droplet of ink threatening to fall. The room was cold. It was always cold in the archives, a chill that settled in the bones and stayed there. "I saw," she said. Her voice was low. Rough. Like gravel under a boot. "Who stamped it?" "Does it matter?" "It matters to me, Margaret. It...
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