The Wistful Mountain

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2026-08-20 00:10:52 -

The bus hissed to a halt at the edge of the gravel lot, exhaling a plume of warm, diesel-scented air into the crisp November morning. Elias Vane stepped down, his boots crunching against the loose stones. He was a man carved from the same hard, silent rock as the mountains that rose behind him, his posture rigid, his face a map of old, unspoken things. He had come back to Oakhaven, a town that...

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