The Pale Altar
The hand left. That was the first thing. It did not fade. It did not dissolve. It simply ceased to be there, leaving a negative space in the air that felt colder than the winter wind. Margot stood in the hallway. The door was open. Beyond it, the grey light of the city pressed against the glass. Inside, the apartment was silent. The silence had teeth. She looked at her other hand. It was whole....
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