The Faded Bouquet
The ink on the ledger page was still wet, a dark smear that caught the grey light filtering through the high, barred windows. Elara held her pen aloft, the tip trembling, as she stared at the line item that did not belong there. She was thirty-two, a junior archivist at the Whitmore Estate, and her job was to secure her position by cataloging the sealed office of her deceased mentor, Silas. She...
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