The Pale Altar
The demolition permit for the Old Quarter was a single sheet of heavy, cream-colored stock, signed and sealed in triplicate, and it smelled faintly of the ozone that always lingered in the archives when the climate control systems cycled. Elara Vance, thirty-two years old and ten years deep into her tenure as the city’s municipal archivist, held the document under the fluorescent lights of her...
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