The Golden Suspect
The mill wheel broke at the hour of vespers, a sound like a giant’s bone snapping, and the timber that followed it crushed Julian’s chest before the dust had even settled into the air. I was standing at the foot of the slope, watching the mist curl around the ruins, when the scream came, high and thin, and then it was gone, swallowed by the groaning of the wood. We are in the year of our Lord...
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