The Pale Fracture
The notice was pinned to the corkboard with a rusted thumbtack, its edges curling like dried skin. I signed the receipt for the confiscated item, my pen scratching against the coarse paper, and handed the ring back to the clerk. It was a simple band of platinum, but the stone set in its center was a pale, fractured diamond, cold to the touch even through my glove. I put it on Clara’s finger...
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