The Pale Letter
The train hissed to a halt in the grey morning, depositing Elias Thorne onto a platform that smelled of wet coal and old wood. He was forty-two, a postal inspector whose career had been dented by a single, unexplained error in the city of Ashworth, and now he stood in Blackwood, a village that seemed to exist only in the margins of the map. He wanted to clear his name, to prove that the strange...
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