The Faded Guest
Chapter One Văn Tuan stood before the magistrate, his shoulder blade grinding against the cold wood of the desk. He was thirty years old, and his coat was worth more than his life. "The debt is collective," the magistrate said, his skin peeling like wet paper under the lamp. "The coat is collateral." I pressed harder, the bone of my shoulder aching against the grain. The ink in the well began...
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