The Wistful Letter
The fog that rolled in from the harbor did not merely obscure the city of Oakhaven; it seemed to possess a physical weight, a damp, suffocating density that pressed against the windowpanes of the high-ceilinged office like a living thing seeking entry. It was the year 1904, a time when the iron skeletons of industry pierced the sky with arrogant spires, yet here, in the windowless interior of...
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