The Pale Tower
Chapter One The island wakes before the sun, a grinding of millstones and the low, rhythmic thud of hoes breaking the red earth, a labor that stretches from the delta’s mouth to the high ridges where the wind splits the fruit. In the parish registry office, where the light is thin and grey through the shutters, Oscar Morisset stands before the desk, his hands trembling not from cold but from...
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