The Pale Verdict
The glass shatters, not with a single clean crack but with a cascading, brittle explosion that turns the afternoon light into a thousand razor-sharp stars, and you stand in the center of the ruin, your small hands trembling not from the cold that has seeped into the floorboards but from the sheer, terrifying velocity of the event that has just occurred, for the great window, the one that framed...
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