The Wistful Cipher
The letter was damp, the ink blurred into gray rivers that Elias Vance traced with a finger already stained by the same pigment. It was the last thing his father had sent before the silence took him, a document of potential exoneration that now sat in Elias’s pocket like a burning coal. He was twelve, a scribe in the service of St. Jude’s Orphanage, and his job was to copy the register of debts...
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