The Distant Garden
The iron bar shattered against the temple of the man who had once commanded the county’s silence. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood in the center of the grand hall of the Whitmore Estate, his chest heaving, the taste of copper and old dust thick on his tongue. Around him, the chandeliers swayed, casting long, trembling shadows across the Persian rugs, as if the house itself were shuddering from the...
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