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Silent Waters

Jenn’s fingers trembled as she wrung the cloth between her hands. The water’s chill seeped into her bones, but it wasn’t the cold that made her shiver. It was the silence, a quiet that stretched across this corner of Reevendale like a spider’s web, every thread laced with tension. The Gilded Chain hall was just down the street, the hall’s menacing stone buildings casting long shadows even at midday. Jenn and her companions, the washerwomen of the city, knew that members of the Chain always watched.


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Read the story at Silent Waters