The Pale Tale
Chapter One The archive smelled of wet wool and old paper. Aminu Garba adjusted his collar, the cracked jade pendant against his chest humming a low, domestic note. He was thirty-four, a junior archivist, and he needed this tenure. The Bureau viewed his immigrant status with suspicion, treating his meticulous work as a foreign intrusion. He wanted only to be seen as competent, not as a threat....
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