The Pale Letter

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2026-08-21 11:18:40 -

The Pale Letter

The rain did not fall so much as it existed, a persistent, gray static that pressed against the windowpane of the farmhouse, blurring the world outside into a smear of wet earth and dying leaves. Thomas Vane stood in the center of the kitchen, his back to the door, his hands clasped tightly behind him, fingers digging into the flesh of his forearms until the nails left crescent moons of white...

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