The Pale Shadows
The carriage wheels ground against the gravel, a harsh, grinding sound that seemed to scrape the last of the daylight from the sky. I stepped down into the mud, my boots sinking into the cold earth, and looked up at St. Jude’s Asylum. It was a stone beast, squat and windowless on its lower floors, rising into a jagged roofline that pierced the grey November clouds. I was thirty-two, and I had...
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