The Pale Tower
The ledger showed three hundred and twelve pounds in debt, a figure Elias Thorne had counted, recounted, and finally accepted as a physical weight on his chest. He sat at the kitchen table, the wood cold against his forearms, holding the silver locket that had belonged to his sister, Clara. The metal was worn smooth, the engraving of a rose so faint it looked like a bruise rather than a design....
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