The Distant Crown
The rain against the window of the precinct’s break room did not sound like water. It sounded like static, a white noise that swallowed the hum of the fluorescent lights and the distant wail of sirens. I sat with my hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had gone cold an hour ago, watching the steam curl and die. Across from me, Elias rubbed his temples, his eyes red-rimmed and hollow. He...
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