The Pale Garden

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2026-08-22 09:27:10 -

The Pale Garden

The mist in Oakhaven did not roll in; it seeped up from the earth, a cold, wet breath that tasted of iron and old rain. Elias Thorne stood before the magistrate’s heavy oak door, his knuckles white against the brass handle, the leather-bound journal in his hand feeling less like a book and more like a stone. He had come to report a crime, but the village had already decided what the crime was....

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