The Faded Road
The fire took the roof before dawn broke. It took the grain store. It took the ledger books. It took the silence of the cellar where Enoch kept his sins. He stood in the mud, watching the orange glow lick the sky. The heat pressed against his face. He did not blink. His hands were empty. His mind was full. Enoch Vane was a man who owed the world. Not money. Not love. He owed it his silence. He...
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