The Pale Shadows
The foreclosure notice sat on the scarred oak desk like a dead bird, its edges curling in the damp air of the mill office. Clara Vane stared at the date, October 14th, 1912, and felt the cold seep through her wool coat, a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn wind rattling the glass. She needed two hundred pounds to keep the roof over her head, a sum that existed only in the patent for...
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