The Faded Apartment
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless gray veil that turned the cobblestones of Ashworth Lane into slick, black mirrors. Inside the small, stone-walled cottage, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and woodsmoke. Elias stood by the hearth, his hands wrapped around a mug of cold tea that he had not tasted. He was a man carved from the same harsh material as the landscape...
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