The Wistful Witness
The departure was not marked by tears or the clashing of silverware, but by the slow, grinding silence of a carriage that had run out of steam. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the cobblestone square in the city of Oakhaven, watching the dust settle around the wheels of the wagon that would carry his reputation, his family, and his name away from the only place he had ever known to be human....
0 Comments 0 Shares 3 Views 0 Reviews