The Pale Fracture
The coat was blue. Not a vibrant blue, but the faded, dusty indigo of old denim, the color of a bruise that has finally decided to heal. It hung on the hook by the door, a shape without a body. Elias stood before it. His hand hovered in the air, trembling slightly. He did not touch the fabric. To touch it would be to confirm its reality, and he was not ready for that. He was ready for the...
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