The Wistful Skyline
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick, industrial mist that turned the streets of Ashford into a smear of gray water and soot, and it was through this wet veil that Elias Thorne drove his horse-drawn carriage toward the estate of his late father, a place that had been left to him under conditions so specific and so quietly humiliating that they had festered in his mind...
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