The Wistful Cipher
The fog rolled off the Lake Erie shoreline in thick, grey curtains, swallowing the rusted railcars of the abandoned siding whole. Sergeant Elias Thorne sat on an overturned crate, his knees drawn up to his chest, watching the mist eat the world. He was a man carved from the same stubborn stone as the breakwater that held back the lake’s restless churn. For twenty years, he had served the...
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