The Faded Guest
The truck sat idling in the gravel lot, its engine a low, rhythmic groan that vibrated through the soles of Sergeant Elias Thorne’s boots. He did not look back at the house. To look back was to invite the weight of the last forty years to settle onto his shoulders, and his back was already aching from the cold. The wind off the Atlantic had a teeth here, biting at the exposed skin of his neck,...
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