The Pale Verdict
The tincture in the vial was a deep, bruised purple, and Elias counted the seconds between Clara’s breaths as he watched the liquid level drop, one milliliter at a time, in the sterile, fluorescent hum of the St. Jude’s Pediatric Ward. He had been awake for forty hours, his eyes gritty with dust and the cold air conditioning that circulated through the ceiling vents, and the only thing that...
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