The Pale Bonsai
The ink was fresh. Celestine Moreau looked up from the ledger, her fingers stiff from the cold that seeped through the stone floor of the municipal office. It was a dark, wet smear on the page detailing her father’s debts, a mark that had not been there an hour ago. She blinked. The stain pulsed, spreading only when she looked at it through the reflection in her spectacles. Chapter One "Your...
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