The Faded Paradox
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world and turned the air in the basement office into a thick, wet soup that tasted of copper and old dust, and Elias Thorne sat in the center of this damp silence, his hands wrapped tightly around a brass pocket watch that had belonged to his brother, David, who was dead now, dead for six months,...
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