The Distant Blade
The silence in the basement of the St. Jude’s Community Center was not empty, but heavy, a physical weight that pressed against the eardrums and settled in the chest. Elias Thorne sat on a overturned milk crate, his back curved like a question mark, his hands resting on his knees with a stillness that suggested he was waiting for the world to end or, perhaps, simply for the heating to kick in....
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