The Distant Clue
You said that the ink was dry, did you not? You said that the seal was broken and the truth was a thing that could not be reassembled, that it had spilled out onto the floor like blood and soaked into the grain of the oak, invisible but permanent, and I stood there in the doorway of your office, my hands trembling so violently that I could not feel the weight of the paper in my fingers,...
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