The Distant Crown
The rain against the window of the precinct’s fourth-floor interrogation room did not sound like rain. It sounded like static, a low-frequency hum that seemed to vibrate in the fillings of your teeth. You sat across from Elias, watching him pick at the threadbare edge of his cuff. He was a small man, Elias, with the kind of nervous energy that made the air around him feel thin and cold. You...
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