The Wistful Cipher
The train screamed through the valley, a jagged tear in the grey wool of the afternoon, shaking the loose stones in the ballast until they rattled like teeth in a dying mouth. Elias sat on the edge of the open platform, his boots dangling over the abyss, watching the fog roll off the river below. He was twelve, thin as a wire, with eyes that had seen too much and said too little. In his hands,...
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