The Pale Letter
The envelope was heavy, heavier than the four ounces of standard mail it was supposed to contain, and the wax seal was the color of dried blood. Elias Thorne, a postal inspector with twelve years of service and a bad left knee, stood in the mud of the Blackwood Ridge, the rain soaking through his wool coat and chilling the bones of his fingers. He wanted to deliver the final letter to the...
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