The Wistful Petal
The rain in the city did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended grey curtain that blurred the edges of the cobblestones and turned the gas lamps into bleeding halos, and within this damp, industrial twilight, Elias Vane sat in his cramped office on the fourth floor of the Whitmore & Sons accounting firm, his fingers trembling not from the cold that seeped through the single-pane...
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