Chapter 87 Inner Adversity
KELLY THOMPSON'S POV
The parchment felt heavy in my hands, the inked words a grim portent that clouded the serenity of my study. Reports—confidential and unsettling—whispered of Paul Biansky's clandestine meetings with The Black Faes. As I reread the missive, a chill slithered down my spine, and I tightened my grip on the paper, crumpling its edges. My heart, usually so steady and assured, now thrummed with a disquieting rhythm.
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