The Distant Whispers
The fog that rolled off the Blackwater Estuary did not merely sit upon the town of Oakhaven; it possessed it, a grey, damp hand pressed firmly against the mouth of the world. Elias Thorne stood at the window of his father’s study, a room that smelled of dried lavender and the metallic tang of old ink, watching the mist erase the line where the river met the sky. He was a man who had returned...
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