The Night Watchman Debt
III. THE NIGHT WATCHMAN'S DEBT The rain had been falling for eleven days straight when Joe Donahue found the lighthouse. It stood at the edge of Lake Michigan like a broken thumb—grey stone, blackened by decades of soot and smoke, its lamp room dark. The city sprawled behind him, a jagged skyline of brick and steel, its lights blurred by rain and fog. "You the new guy?" The Keeper was waiting...
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