The Distant Temple
The rain had not stopped for three days. It fell upon the city of Oakhaven with a persistence that felt less like weather and more like a judgment, a cold, gray curtain drawn across the window of the inquest room. Elias Thorne sat at the heavy oak table, his fingers laced together, knuckles white. He was a man of quiet habits and deep silences, a detective whose career had been built on the...
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