The Wistful Incense
The ledger weighed twelve pounds, a dense block of leather and vellum that Elias Thorne had carried from the municipal archive to his study desk with the care of a man handling a live grenade. He counted the pages: four hundred and twelve, each one bound with brass staples that had rusted into orange tears across the spines. For twenty years, Elias had served the town of Oakhaven as its...
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