The Pale Letter
Chapter One Niamh O’Casey, forty-two, arrived at the coastal station with her hands already bleeding from the scrubbing. The Burren stone outside was grey and sharp, like a glacier that had forgotten how to melt, and the gale was rearranging the harbor with a violence that made the glass rattle in its frame. I had come to verify the bones of the White Stag, a task I had pursued for a decade,...
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