The Distant Clue
The basement of the Oakhaven Municipal Archive smelled of wet plaster and old paper, a scent that had seeped into Clara Vane’s wool coat during the three weeks she had been confined to the sub-levels. She was thirty-four years old, a junior archivist with a tenure review looming like a guillotine, and she was currently crouched in the dark, holding a water-damaged ledger that felt heavier than...
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