The Distant Legend
The brass pocket watch lay on the steel desk. It was cold. It was heavy. It did not tick. Detective Elias Thorne stared at it. The office was a tomb of wood and silence. Dust motes danced in the single shaft of light cutting through the high window. Outside, the city of Oakhaven slept under a layer of grey snow. Inside, the air smelled of stale tobacco and old paper. This was the Bureau of...
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