The Pale Path

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2026-08-20 19:02:17 -

The Pale Path

The banquet hall smelled of roasted duck and old money, a thick, cloying scent that hung in the air like a heavy curtain. I stood by the silver ice sculpture, watching the chandeliers refract their light into jagged shards on the floor. My dress was blue, cut from silk that cost more than my mother’s entire year of rent. It fit me perfectly, hiding the hollows in my cheeks where the hunger had...

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