The Pale Tower
The autumn of 1893 settled over Vane House with the weight of a burial shroud, pressing the damp earth against the foundations of the manor until the very stones seemed to groan under the burden of the season. Major Silas Vane stood in the center of the library, his back rigid against the mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the single sheet of paper that lay before him like a death warrant. The...
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