The Golden Suspect
The departure was not a farewell but a severance, a clean, cold cut of the tether that had bound Elias Thorne to the valley of Sarn for forty years, and he stood on the platform of the Sarn Central station with his single, heavy trunk at his feet, watching the steam from the locomotive curl and dissipate into the gray, indifferent morning, a phantom limb of the past already beginning to fade...
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