The Distant Clue
The ink on the petition was still wet when I held it up to the grey light of the office window, the paper stiffening as it dried, a formal demand for the reinstatement of my wife, Elara, who had been cast out of the Harrowgate Mill three years prior for what the ledger called insubordination, a word that felt too small to hold the weight of the silence that had since filled our home. I was...
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