The Distant Threshold
The rain in Ashford did not fall so much as it hung, a grey curtain drawn tight against the windows of the St. Jude’s Correctional Facility, blurring the line between the inside and the outside until the two became indistinguishable. Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the courtyard, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his flannel shirt, watching a single, ragged crow navigate the downpour....
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