The Faded Road
The scale in the corner of the office ticked with a heavy, mechanical patience as Elara counted the bolts of grey wool, her fingers numb from the damp that had seeped through the factory walls all morning. She weighed each bundle against the ledger, the paper thin and brittle, the ink smudged where her father’s hand had trembled before the fever took him. Mr. Vane stood by the window, watching...
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