The Pale Garden
Chapter One The island moved in a slow, grinding rhythm of sugar cane and rust, a place where the air hung heavy with the scent of burnt molasses and the promise of rain that had not yet broken the drought. In the boarding house on the hill, the rooms stood empty, their linoleum floors cracked like the earth below, waiting for tenants who never came. Mathilde Mire stood in the hallway, her...
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