The Pale Verdict
The letter lay on the table, its paper yellowed and stiff with age. Elias Vane read it twice, his left hand resting flat on the wood, fingers twitching against the grain. It was a notice of debt, signed by the estate of Thomas Vane, dated three weeks before the funeral. Elias folded the paper into a small square and placed it in his breast pocket, close to the hollow space where his heart...
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