The Wistful Crossroads
Chapter One The flood officers counted the grain sacks in the longhouse, their tally sticks clicking against the wet wood, a rhythmic percussion that underscored the famine’s quiet threat. Aminu Lawan sat at the far end of the room, his fingers tracing the spine of a leather-bound ledger, waiting for the mentor’s estate to be officially cleared for his audit. The air smelled of damp clay and...
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