The Distant Wound
The name Mara Vane was not spoken so much as summoned, a sharp intake of air from the intercom that cut through the sterile hum of the Oakhaven Archives. She looked up from her desk, her fingers still stained with the dry, chalky residue of the preservation solvents, and watched as Director Halloway’s shadow fell across her workstation. Halloway did not look at her; he looked through her, his...
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