The Pale Door
Chapter One There is a particular kind of silence that falls over a room when the ledger is open and the numbers do not add up. It is not the silence of peace, but the silence of a held breath before a shout. I stood in the mud of the bayou, the water rising to my ankles, cold enough to numb the bones in my legs, while the man across the river raised his rifle. His face was my own, or rather,...
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