The Faded Photograph
The ledger lay open on the table, its pages brittle with age, and Elias counted the entries for the third time, his finger tracing the ink until the lines blurred into a single, dark smear. He needed to prove the house was habitable, that the damp in the walls was merely structural neglect and not a sign of ruin, for if Mr. Thorne saw the decay, the lease would be revoked and Elias would be...
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