The Pale Tale
Chapter One Anita Gupta had forty years of service stamped in her ledger, and now her hands would not stop shaking. The office of the Bombay Textile Exchange smelled of liniment and damp wool, a sharp, medicinal scent that clung to the back of her throat. Outside, the first real dark of autumn pressed against the glass, erasing the bamboo hills that usually swallowed the sound of the city. She...
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