The Wistful Witness
"You did it. You actually did it," the voice said, low and ragged, echoing in the hollow space of the abandoned textile mill where the air tasted of wet rust and old, calcified secrets. Elias Thorne, a man whose face had been carved by the wind and the weight of a career spent enforcing the law in a city that had long since stopped believing in his moral compass, stood with his back against the...
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