The Faded Frequency
The letter lay on the dashboard, its edges curling in the damp heat of the October rain, a small white square of surrender against the black vinyl. Elias stared at it, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, as the wipers swept the windshield in a rhythmic, futile arc. The destination was three miles away, a place where the paved road surrendered to the muddy tracks of the old logging camp,...
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