The Pale Letter

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2026-08-21 21:35:24 -

The Pale Letter

The rain struck the window glass in a steady, rhythmic drumming. It was a sound that Elara had come to associate with the end of things. She sat in the corner of the waiting room, her knees drawn up to her chest. The chair was hard plastic, molded for efficiency, not comfort. The air smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee. "Next," a voice called from the double doors at the end of the hall....

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