The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-24 09:39:15 -

Chapter One I remember the cold first, a dampness that settled into the marrow of my bones and refused to leave, even after the candle burned low and the wind died down to a whisper against the stone. It was three days before the bell rang for the morning meal, and I was twenty-four years old, a bonded scribe to the Abbey, tasked with finding a ledger that did not appear to exist in the...

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