The Faded Frontier
The ink on the warrant is still wet, or so it feels to your fingers, though the paper is brittle and the sun has long since set behind the jagged teeth of the mountains that encircle Millhaven. You hold the document up to the flickering gaslight in the sheriff’s office, the flame trembling as if it, too, suspects the lie written upon the page. It is a summons for your brother, Elias, signed by...
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