The Wistful Cipher
The ledger is a forgery, Lord Blackwood said, his voice smooth as oil poured over a crack in the porcelain, and if you persist in this absurdity, I shall have you committed to the asylum by morning, for the sake of your own fragile sanity. Elias Thorne sat at the head of the long mahogany table, the crystal glasses around him reflecting the chandelier’s light in sharp, fractured stars, while...
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