The Wistful Witness
The glass shatters. Not the window. The mirror. It breaks in the center of the room, a spiderweb of silver and dust. You do not move. You are still. The shards catch the gaslight, turning the air into a field of broken stars. This is the end of the room. The end of the court. You look at your hands. They are steady. They have always been steady. "Captain Hale." The voice comes from the door. It...
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