The Pale Shadows
The ledger lay open on the kitchen table, its columns of ink smudged where Elara’s thumb had pressed against the page, a small, damp circle expanding into the paper like a bruise. She was reading the cost of the wood, the price of the laborer who had come to chop down the first infected apple tree, and the figure for the tax assessment that was due before the frost set in. The numbers were cold...
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