Dora read the letter a second time—as if the words would change—while absentmindedly wiping the stubborn spots of flour that still clung to her apron with her left hand. Never mind that specks of flour from her right hand flecked the parchment. She was still sitting on the stool by the pile of wood near the fireplace. Danel stood before her waiting patiently for his wife to look up at him. He had broken the seal and read the letter even before . . .
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- The Grantville Gazette Staff