The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-19 23:45:34 -

The ink was still wet when I saw the signature, a flourish of black that looked less like a name and more like a scar. I held the parchment in my hands, the heavy vellum rough against my palms, feeling the slight dampness of the fresh letters as if it were blood. It was a summons from the High Court, written in a hand I knew too well, though I had sworn I would never see it again. The court was...

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