The Wistful Grid
The ink was still wet on the page of the ledger when the first raindrop struck the glass, a single, heavy punctuation mark against the silence of the shop, and Elias Vane looked up from the column of figures not with the sharp, calculating eye of a man auditing his worth, but with the glazed, distant stare of a creature watching its own shadow stretch and distort in the flickering candlelight....
0 Commentarios 0 Acciones 1 Views 0 Vista previa