The Pale Echo
Chapter One I remember the weight of the medal before I remember the taste of the wine. Inspector Honoré Dugas, they called me, in the hush of the bayou hall, a title that sat on my tongue like a stone. Elise watched me from the edge of the room, her eyes hollow, a destructive intensity that signaled the first crack in my composure. I was forty-two, and the sun had broken after nine days of...
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