The Golden Quest
The ledger held forty-two pounds in arrears, a sum that felt less like a number and more like a physical weight pressing against the sternum of the house. Elara Vane stood in the center of the foyer, counting the hours since the last rain had stopped, her fingers tracing the damp line that had crept up the wainscoting like a slow, grey tide. She was thirty years old, a widow of four years, and...
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