
The brook wheel turns beneath wet black timbers while flour dust slips through the open mill door. The dust is less than chaff, and you are no better than the dust that leaves it. You step into this one-chapter preview with Folle-Farine at the center, where choices turn on the people, promises, and pressure already in the room. The mill water keeps speaking after every human voice has withdrawn. The chapter closes on a continuation question rather than resolving the novel's larger arc.
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