The Wistful Saga
The ledger had four hundred and twelve pages, and Elara Vane had counted every one. She counted them again, her fingers sliding over the brittle, foxed paper, feeling the grit of old dust settle into the creases of her knuckles. It was November in Harrowgate, and the fog pressed against the archive windows like a damp cloth, muffling the streetlights of the main road into dim, bruised smudges....
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