The Distant Clue
The rain fell upon the cobbled lanes of Oakhaven with a persistent, rhythmic drumming that seemed to hollow out the silence between the houses. You stood at the threshold of the magistrate’s office, the heavy oak door slick beneath your gloved hand, the cold seeping through the leather to your knuckles. In your other hand, you held the evidence. It was not a weapon, nor a letter, but a cloak. A...
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