The Pale Echo
The gaslight in the corridor of St. Jude’s Asylum for the Mentally Infirmed flickered with a sickly, yellow pulse, casting long, trembling shadows against the peeling wallpaper, but Dr. Elara Vance did not look up from the specimen tray in her hands. She held a fragment of bone, no larger than a thumbnail, pale and jagged, its surface etched with a microscopic irregularity that her trained eye...
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