The Pale Garden
Chapter One Lester Tillman’s boots slipped on the wet slate as he hauled Elara’s duffel bag over the threshold of the Blackwood facility, the fabric tearing slightly at the seam under the strain of the damp. Inside, the air tasted of copper and old rain, a cold that settled in the lungs like a second skin. He was thirty-two, a sergeant in the local constabulary, but here, in the shadow of the...
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