The Pale Dance
The tremor started in the left hand, a fine, persistent shiver that made the nib of Arthur Vane’s fountain pen dance across the ledger pages in a way that was becoming impossible to ignore, a physical betrayal of the steady, precise clerk that Director Halloway had once praised for his unwavering accuracy. It was November of 1912, and the air inside the Blackwood Ironworks was thick with the...
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