The Wistful Saga
The glass shattered not with a bang, but with a sickening, wet crunch that sounded exactly like a bone breaking in the quiet of the afternoon, and Elias Vane stood in the center of the ruined sanctuary of the old St. Jude’s Community Hall, watching the dust settle over the debris of the stained-glass window that had once depicted the patron saint’s serene, indifferent face. It was a Tuesday, a...
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