The Distant Legend
The rain in Chicago did not fall so much as it pressed, a heavy, gray hand against the windshield, blurring the neon signs of the South Side into smeared streaks of red and blue, and Sergeant Elias Thorne sat behind the wheel of his cruiser, his fingers white-knuckled on the steering column, watching the reflection of his own face in the rearview mirror, a face that had aged ten years in the...
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