The Faded Paradox
The train hissed into the station at Grey Harbor, a long, metallic exhalation that seemed to drain the last of the winter air from the platform, and Elias Thorne stepped down onto the gravel with a suitcase that weighed more than his bones, a sensation he had come to know as the specific gravity of his own failure. He was not a man who carried weight well, his spine curved from years of...
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