The King of the Quiet City
The mud in Oakhaven didn't just coat your boots; it seeped into your thoughts. It was a town of sagging porches and rusted weather-vanes, a place where the humidity felt like a wet wool blanket and the church bells rang for people who had been dead for decades. Caleb Vance was the same kind of mud—thick, brown, and impossible to wash off. He was a professional liar, a man who sold "Spiritual...
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