The Faded Road
The border was not a line on a map. It was a fence of rusted wire, sagging under the weight of decades of wind and neglect, that cut through the marshland like a scar. Elias Thorne stood on his side of it, the mud sucking at his boots, and watched the other side where the estate of Julian Vane lay in silent, oppressive grandeur. Elias was a customs officer, a man of small habits and large...
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