The Distant Affair
The rain fell in sheets against the windshield of the black sedan, blurring the world into a smear of gray mud and rusted iron. Elias Thorne gripped the wheel with white knuckles. The engine hummed, a low, steady growl that matched the tension in his jaw. He was not a man of many words. He was a man of observation. A man who looked at a broken fence and saw the history of the neglect. He was a...
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