The Pale Meridian
The suitcase was open on the bed, its lining a pale, faded blue that seemed to absorb the dim light of the motel room. Elias stood before it, holding a silver chain that had once encircled his daughter’s neck, a heavy, ornate piece of jewelry that looked less like an accessory and more like a shackle. It was a relic of a life that had been stripped away, a token of the identity the state had...
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