The Faded Ruin
Act I One hundred and nine of the Tannery Steps had been worn smooth by centuries of feet, but the dust on the third step still held the shape of a boot from last winter. Ioanna Fotopoulos looked at the grain jar, its seal intact and yellowed with age, and felt the weight of the debt pressing against her ribs. The house smelled of wet limestone and old blood, a scent that clung to the back of...
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