The Distant Clue
The rain had not stopped for three days, and the world had become a slick, grey smear of mud and iron. Elias stood at the edge of the quarry, his boots sinking into the slurry that churned beneath the surface. He was twelve years old, but in the eyes of the men who worked this earth, he was merely a pair of hands, a mouth that needed filling, and a brother who needed saving. The air smelled of...
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