The Golden Crossing
The train from London arrived in the village of Oakhaven not with a screech of brakes or a puff of steam, but with a slow, grinding sigh that seemed to exhale the accumulated dust of decades onto the platform, where Elias Thorne stood waiting with a suitcase that had seen better years and a mind that was already beginning to unravel at the seams, his eyes fixed on the old stone archway that...
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