The Pale Tower
The rain has not stopped for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that blurs the edges of the town of Oakhaven into a watercolor smear of slate and rust, and you stand in the center of the library’s main reading room, holding a book so tightly that your knuckles have turned the color of bone, while the air around you smells of damp wool, old paper, and the faint, metallic tang of the storm...
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