The Distant Legend
The ledger weighed four pounds in your hands, the spine cracked and soft as wet bread, and you had counted the pages three times to be certain there were one hundred and forty-two entries before you allowed yourself to breathe. You are Elara, thirty-two years old, and for the last six weeks you have worked in the sub-basement of St. Jude’s Asylum, cataloging the final letters of the deceased, a...
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