The Distant Promise
The rain in Oakhaven did not fall so much as it settled, a persistent, grey mist that clung to the wool of coats and the hair of passersby, turning the city’s sharp edges into smudged charcoal sketches. Margaret Holloway stood on the platform of the station, watching the last train of the day vanish into the fog, her fingers wrapped tightly around a leather-bound journal that had become heavier...
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