The Pale Verdict
Act I "Who among us is the thief, Fernando, when the books lie flat and the fog burns off by ten?" The question hung in the air of the quarantine office, heavier than the damp wool coats stacked in the hallway of coats and bicycles. Fernando Valenzuela, thirty-two, wiped the condensation from the glass, his hands trembling not from cold but from the weight of the ledger in his lap. He needed...
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