The Golden Echoes
The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a suspended veil of grey that soaked into the bones of the town of Oakhaven, turning the cobblestones slick with a treacherous sheen that reflected the flickering gaslights of the high street. It was the kind of weather that settled in the joints, a heavy, damp weight that pressed against the chest and made the breath come in short, ragged...
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