The Pale Altar
Act I "You’re not signing that, Veronica." The paper on the desk was white, blindingly so, under the fluorescent tubes that hummed like a dying insect. I looked at Mr. Halloway, who sat behind the barrier of his own authority, his hands folded on the wood. I wanted the signature. I needed the money to buy the house in the valley, the one with the south-facing windows where Elias could watch the...
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