The Distant Clue
The rain in the village of Oakhaven did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a persistent, gray mist that smelled of wet slate and decaying leaves, settling into the pores of the skin and the cracks of the old stone walls. Professor Elias Thorne sat in his study, a room that had long since ceased to be a sanctuary of thought and had become merely a cage of dust and unpaid bills. On his desk,...
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