The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-22 14:19:41 -

The Pale Bridge

The ink was warm, a shocking, visceral heat that spread from the damp page into the pores of my left palm, staining the skin a bruised purple that faded only when I pressed it against my chest. I stood in the square of Oakhaven, the rain slicking the cobblestones into a dark, reflective mirror that showed me a man holding a book like a weapon, and the weight of the ledger in my hands was...

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