The Distant Crown
The envelope was thick, cream-colored, and smelled faintly of the lavender water Mrs. Gable used to clean the archive. Elias held it against his chest, feeling the rigid spine of the document inside, before he even dared to tear the seal. He was sitting at his desk in the basement of the St. Jude’s Home for the Aged, the fluorescent lights buzzing a low, persistent note that seemed to drill...
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