The Pale Shadows

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 21:22:10 -

The Pale Shadows

The rain did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain drawn tight against the windows of the St. Jude’s Orphanage annex. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of damp wool, boiled cabbage, and the metallic tang of old fear. Margaret Holloway sat at the head of the long oak table, her fingers interlaced, her knuckles white. She was not a woman who shouted. She was a woman who waited. For...

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