The Distant Wound

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2026-08-20 16:31:26 -

The Distant Wound

The iron gate of St. Jude’s Bastion groaned against the rusted hinge, a sound that dragged through the air like a scream held back by clenched teeth, and beneath that low, metallic shriek, the silence of the compound settled heavy and wet, thick with the smell of wet stone and the lingering, cloying scent of lavender oil that Marguerite had used to wash the sheets of the commandant’s bed three...

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