The Pale Garden
Vane. The word cut through the fog like a blade, sharp and unyielding, spoken by Constable Miller as he stood before the iron gate of the Pale Garden. You were Thomas Vane, Inspector of the Ashworth Constabulary, thirty-two years old, with a promotion resting on the tip of your tongue and a missing girl named Elara Ashworth hanging over your head like a noose. The town feared this place; the...
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