The Distant Ghost
The air in the mill town of Oakhaven did not merely smell of wet wool and coal dust, but of a specific, heavy rot that seemed to settle into the pores of the skin, a scent that Elias Thorne had long since ceased to notice but which his companion, the young and trembling Arthur Penhaligon, seemed to inhale with the desperate avidity of a man starving for a truth he could not name. It was the...
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