The Pale Tower
The elm tree stood at the edge of the garden, its branches stripped of leaves by a wind that seemed to know more than the sky. Elias Thorne sat in the study, the room heavy with the scent of old paper and the damp earth that always seeped through the foundation stones of Blackwood Manor. He was a man who had spent his life looking for things that did not belong, a detective by trade, though the...
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