The Wistful Silence
The fracture happened not with a sound, but with a sensation, a sudden and terrifying absence of the left hand. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the sterile, white-walled gymnasium of the St. Jude’s Rehabilitation Institute, his breath held in a lung that no longer felt like his own. The morning light, pale and indifferent, streamed through the high windows, illuminating the dust motes that...
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