The Pale Garden
The gaslight in the archive hums, a low, insectile drone that vibrates against the fillings in your teeth. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-two, and you are trying to keep your hands from shaking as you open the Thorne family ledger. Director Halloway stands behind you, his shadow long and thin on the damp brick wall, watching your face with the patient, hollow eyes of a man who has seen too many...
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