The Pale Echo
The letter from Magistrate Aldous Thorne lay on my desk, its seal broken, the ink smudged where my thumb had pressed against the wax in a futile attempt to hold it together. It was a simple accusation, three lines of typed text stating that the ledger belonging to the Harrow Estate had vanished from my custody, and that I was to report to the municipal hall by noon to face the consequences. I...
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