The Wistful Witness
The ledger lay open on the mahogany table, its pages crisp and white, recording the weight of every ton of coal extracted from the Blackwood Mine over the preceding quarter. Silas Vane stood before it, his forearms crossed, watching the numbers climb in a steady, mechanical rhythm that mirrored the clanking of the drills three hundred feet below the surface. He counted the entries in his head,...
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