The Pale Dance
Chapter One Elvira Esposito knew the weight of a forged deed by the smell of the ink, a sharp, chemical bite that clung to the throat like the vapor from the hospital laundry where she had spent her first decade scrubbing sheets until the bleach stung the raw skin of her palms. She stood alone in the shattered nave of the ruined Abbey of St. Jude, what he wanted of her life distilled into the...
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