The Wistful Mirror
The train hissed into the station of St. Jude’s, a creature of iron and steam exhaling its final, rattling breath into the twilight, and Dr. Elias Thorne stepped onto the platform with the heavy, deliberate gait of a man whose bones had long since forgotten how to bear the weight of ordinary life, his fingers clutching the worn leather satchel that contained not merely his manuscripts but the...
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