The Distant Clue
The trembling was not a shiver but a vibration, a low-frequency hum in the bones of my right hand that made the nib of my steel quill skate across the parchment instead of biting into it. I am Elias Thorne, and for thirty-two years I have been the keeper of the Millhaven Historical Ledger, a role that demands a steadiness of spirit I no longer possess. The light in the archive room was the...
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