The Distant Wound
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air of Harrowgate, a suspended gray mist that clung to the wool coats of the citizens and seeped into the porous brick of the townhouses, creating a dampness that seemed to originate not from the sky but from the collective fatigue of the community itself. Sergeant Elias Thorne walked the perimeter of the district, his steps heavy and measured,...
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