The Wistful Cipher
The ink had dried on the page before Julian finished speaking, a dark stain spreading like a bruise across the white cotton. "You sold it," Elias said, his voice flat and stripped of any inflection that might have suggested anger. It was the only thing he could manage, the words tumbling out in a dry rattle that echoed in the high-ceilinged study where the afternoon light was already beginning...
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