The Wistful Voyage
Act I "Property of the Ministry of Records. Do Not Remove." The ink was faded, a ghost of violet on yellowed card stock, but the warning was clear enough. Maire O'Casey held the ledger in her hands, her knuckles white against the leather spine. She was thirty-two, and for the first time in six years, she felt the weight of the building pressing down on her shoulders. The Grand Hall of the...
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