The Pale Mist
Chapter One The ink bled into the parchment, a dark stain spreading like a bruise, and I watched it swallow the number three. My hand trembled. I pressed the quill harder, trying to force the line straight, but the metal tip slipped, scratching a jagged tear across the ledger. The counting house was cold, the north light pouring in through the high windows, never quite setting, turning the dust...
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