The Faded Road
The ledger was open to page forty-two, the paper yellowed and soft as wet cloth, and Elias Thorne’s hand hovered over the entry for Thomas Wynn, the boy who had died of a fever in the winter of ’89. He did not breathe. The air in the corridor of St. Jude’s Orphanage was thick with the scent of coal smoke and damp wool, a smell that had settled into the very plaster of the walls over the last...
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