The Pale Verdict
The rain hit the cobblestones. It drummed a steady rhythm. "Is it true?" Thomas asked. He stood by the window. His hand rested on the stone sill. The stone was cold. It bit into his palm. He did not pull away. "True what?" asked the woman. Her name was Elara. She sat in the corner. The chair creaked under her weight. She looked small. She looked tired. Her eyes were dark. They held a deep, old...
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