The Distant Affair
The letter lay on the kitchen table, the paper damp and warped at the edges, the ink of the municipal seal bleeding into the fiber like a bruise. Elara held the pen above the signature line, her hand trembling not from cold but from the specific, grinding exhaustion of a woman who had spent three weeks testing water samples that tasted of copper and regret. She did not sign it. She folded the...
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