The Distant Legend
The rain had been falling for three days, a steady, gray curtain that turned the world outside the window into a blur of mud and decaying leaves. Inside the small, windowless storage room at the back of the police station, the air was thick with the smell of damp wool and old paper. Thomas Bradshaw sat on a metal folding chair, his knees drawn up to his chest, holding a small, battered leather...
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