The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-21 15:06:34 -

The Wistful Petal

The pin was blue. It was a small, unassuming thing, a fragment of sapphire glass set in a silver bezel, dull with age and the oils of human skin. Margaret Holloway held it up to the light of the interrogation room, turning it slowly. It caught the fluorescent hum and threw a tiny, cold star against the concrete wall. "Did you take it?" she asked. Her voice was flat, devoid of the tremor that...

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