The Distant Blade
The paper lay on the desk, a stark white rectangle against the dark wood, and I held the pen with a grip that turned my knuckles to the color of old bone. It was a bill for three hundred pounds, signed in the shaky hand of Magistrate Halloway, and next to it, a second sheet, blank and waiting, which he had asked me to fill with his final words. The air in the room was thick, not with dust, but...
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