The Golden Compass
The ink bled into the cheap paper as Elara Holloway pressed the nib too hard, the blue turning black at the edges of the date: October 14, 1944. Her hand was steady, but the room was not; the wind off the moor rattled the window frames of the Blackwood Sanatorium, a sound like dry bones clicking together in a jar. She had come to secure a permanent transfer for Thomas, her brother, who had been...
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