The Faded Ruin
The frost lay thick on the window of the small office. It had not melted for three days. Outside, the town of Oakhaven sat under a grey, suspended silence. The air smelled of wet ash and old iron. Elias sat at his desk. He did not look at the computer screen. He looked at his hands. They were steady. They had always been steady. For twenty years, his hands had held the weight of the law. They...
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