The Pale Verdict
The envelope was cream-colored, thick as a communion wafer, and it smelled faintly of the lavender water Arthur used on his hands. He pressed it into my palm before the orchestra began to play, his grip surprising in its strength, as if he were sealing a door rather than passing a gift. The hall was a cavern of gold leaf and low, humming voices, the air thick with the scent of roasted duck and...
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