The Faded Bouquet
Chapter One "You have stolen the silver, Ahmad, and you will confess to it before the sun sets," the Judge said, his voice a low, grinding rasp that seemed to scrape against the very plaster of the ceiling. I stood in the center of the room, my hands trembling not from fear, but from the desperate, physical need to hold the wilting bouquet of white lilies tight against my chest, as if the cold,...
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