The Faded Shield
The road to Blackwater was a ribbon of red clay that unspooled through the mist, and Elias Thorne drove the old Ford with a determination that felt less like driving and more like swimming against a current of thick, cold water. He was a man who dealt in things that could be touched, weighed, and sold, a restorer of antique clocks in a world that had moved on to the silent, blue glow of...
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