The Wistful Silence

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2026-08-18 18:06:13 -

The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the cobblestones of Oakhaven into a slick, dark mirror that reflected the gaslights in trembling, amber pools. Thomas Ashworth walked with his head bowed, the damp wool of his overcoat clinging to his spine like a second, heavier skin. He was a man of modest stature and even more modest means, a clerk at the municipal registry whose life was...

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