The Distant Garden
The rain had been falling for three days without pause, a steady, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the narrow street into a slick, reflective mirror of the damp sky above. Elias Thorne stood in the doorway of the small, rented room on the second floor, his fingers wrapped tightly around the fraying edge of his coat, watching the water drip from the gutter with the patience of a man...
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