The Faded Bouquet
The report lay on the desk of Foreman Miller, a sheet of grey paper stained with the soot of the looms, and it named Arthur Thorne as the source of the theft. Twelve-year-old Elias stood in the doorway, his boots caked in the black dust of the mill floor, watching the ink dry. The director’s pocket watch, a silver thing worth more than a year’s wages, had vanished from the office the night...
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