The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 10:52:35 -

The Pale Dance

The cake sat in the center of the table like a white monument. It was tall, frosted in a pale, unyielding glaze that reflected the harsh fluorescent lights of the dining hall. The air smelled of sugar and stale coffee. Margot stood at the head of the table, her hands resting on the cold wood. She was a detective, or at least, she had been, before the department decided she was too much trouble....

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