The Distant Wound
The glass shattered before the sound reached the eaves, a sharp, bright crack that split the air like a bone breaking under a hammer. Ren Kondo stood in the center of the hall, his uniform pressed until it felt like a second skin, and watched the jade brooch in his wife’s hand turn to dust. It was not a fall. Elara gripped the stone until it crumbled, the powder slipping through her fingers...
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