The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-23 21:34:38 -

The fever broke in the small hours, leaving Thomas Bradshaw gasping for air in the narrow confines of his cell, the sweat cooling on his skin like a shroud, and in the throes of the nightmare he had seen his father’s hand, rotting and blackened by the plague, clutching a ledger that demanded he balance the abbey’s insolvent accounts before the Bishop’s audit in three days. He sat up, the straw...

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