The Distant Affair
The notice was pinned to the oak door with a single iron nail, its paper brittle and yellowed at the edges, smelling of damp cellar air. You read it three times, your fingers trembling not from the cold but from the sudden, crushing weight of the words: *All personal effects of staff are subject to immediate seizure and audit.* It was signed by the High Inquisitor, a name that felt less like a...
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