The Pale Verdict
Edna Zorn sat in the damp corner of the library, watching the thaw rot the cobblestones outside the window, and knew that the silence in the room was the same as the silence of snow, heavy and absolute. She had been there for three hours, since the light had begun to slant low and amber across the dust motes, and the only sound was the tick of the clock and the creak of the floorboards as the...
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