The Distant Ghost
The wool coat had hung on the back of the door for forty years, its deep navy fabric faded to the color of a bruised twilight, the collar stiff with the ghosts of old sweat and the specific, metallic scent of a life lived in service. Elias Thorne stood before it in the narrow hallway of his childhood home, the silence of the house pressing against his eardrums like deep water. He was...
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