The Wistful Petal
The rain in Oakhaven did not fall so much as it hovered, a fine, gray mist that settled into the pores of the skin and the grain of the wood. Elias Thorne sat in the back of his workshop, a space so small and cluttered that the air itself seemed to hold its breath. He was a restorer of antique clocks, a man who spent his life coaxed time back into shape, ticking and tocking, precise and...
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