The Faded Chronicle
You can’t tell me that the ink is dry, Thomas, not when the paper is still damp with the sweat of men who bled for this town, and you have the audacity to call it an error of clerical convenience, a mistake of the hand, a slip of the pen that we are expected to forgive because you are the one holding the quill, because you are the one who decides what goes into the file and what gets shredded...
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