Chapter 7 · free to read
Sixth dawn. The seat inside is still empty. The wet prints on the inner stair are not.
Nine prints. I counted twice, and the second count matched — which frightened me more than a wrong number would have.
One ledger for the visitors she received. And underneath it, one she never showed anybody.
Every entry the same shape. A date, a name, and beside it one word, over and over down the page. Refused. Refused. Refused.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.