The Faded Masquerade
The envelope was thick, the paper heavy with the damp weight of the valley, and Elias Thorne held it in his left hand while his right fumbled for a knife to slice the wax seal. He was a road agent for the county, a man whose life was measured in miles logged and forms signed, and he had spent the last three weeks tracking a rumor that smelled of rot and old grief. The letter inside was a...
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