The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-19 08:12:42 -

The rain fell on the window of the holding cell, a steady, grey drumming that matched the beat of Elias Thorne’s heart. He sat on the cold metal bench, his hands cuffed behind his back, the metal biting into his wrists. The room smelled of damp wool and old iron. Across from him, Officer Miller stood by the door, his eyes fixed on a point in the middle distance. He did not look at Elias. He had...

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