The Faded Photograph
The light in the archive was failing, turning the dust motes into slow, gray stars that hung in the air like suspended breath. I stood before Lord Vane’s desk, my hands clasped tightly to hide their trembling, and watched him turn the page of the report I had spent three weeks reconstructing. He did not look up. His eyes remained fixed on the parchment, tracing the ink with a precision that...
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