The Wistful Witness

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2026-08-24 05:06:16 -

The letter lay on the desk, the paper thick and cream-colored, smelling faintly of the damp wool coat I had left in the hallway. I held it in my hands, the ink still dark and wet, as if Silas Vane had set down his pen only moments before I entered the room. The date at the top was not today. It was three days from now. I looked at the name written in Vane’s cramped, slanting script: Clara...

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