The Wistful Witness
The ledger lay open on the desk, its leather cover cracked like dry earth, and Arthur Vane’s finger traced the recurring entry for the third time, the ink smudging slightly under the pressure of his thumb. It was a Tuesday in late October, 2024, and the light in the study was the pale, washed-out grey of a sky that had forgotten how to rain. The entry read *St. Jude’s Care Facility, Monthly...
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