The Keeper of the Golden Flame
The Keeper of the Golden Flame The lake did not forgive. It took you in with the casual indifference of water that had swallowed men for ten thousand years and did not keep score. Thomas Calloway hit the surface of Lake Michigan at midnight, cold as a coffin, dark as a church without God, and he understood in that first terrible second that he was going to die. He had run for three hours...
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