The Pale Path

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2026-08-20 12:50:25 -

The Pale Path

The door to the office creaked. It was a sound like a bone snapping, dry and final. I stood in the hallway, my shoes silent on the polished linoleum. The air smelled of stale coffee and ozone. Inside, Margaret sat at her desk. She was not looking at me. She was looking at the wall. Or perhaps she was looking through it. "Come in," she said. Her voice was flat. Dead. I stepped over the...

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