The Pale Verdict
The frost on the windowpane of the constable’s quarters in Oakhaven was not merely ice, but a map of your own rigid will, cracking under the weight of the silence that has settled over the town since the first breathless death. You are Thomas, forty years old, and for the last three nights you have not slept, driven by a singular, obsessive need to prove your loyalty to Lord Ashworth by...
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