The Wistful Asylum
Act I Odette Dumas would remember the sound of the work bell at the rival yard long after the taste of blood faded from her mouth. It had been a Tuesday, the air sharp with the sudden turn of winter, when she found the jade seal in the rubble of the flooded cellar. The water had risen to the third step, cold and black, and she had waded in to save the ledgers, her dyer’s hands already stained...
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