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Chapter 217: Marionette [4]
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... cating.
The smell of aged wood, ink, and something faintly metallic hung in the air, like the remnants of secrets clinging to the room’s walls.
The office wasn’t mine by right—I was only acting as a stand-in instructor—but for now, it was mine to use.
I sat at the desk, staring at the surface that bore countless scratches, burns, and gouges.
Marks of a life lived dangerously, I guessed.
In front of me was a box, one of the few belongings left behind by Dra ...
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~ postscript
