The Pale Letter
Chapter One Vijay Pillai had not slept in four days, and the weight of the jade hairpin in his pocket pressed against his hip like a cold stone. He was a scribe in the imperial archive, a man who copied names for a pittance, but he was also the husband of Lakshmi, and the guilt of leaving her alone had turned his stomach into a knot of iron. The city of Delhi was old, older than the debt he...
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