The Distant Promise
The coat was black. Heavy wool. Cut from the dark heart of winter. It hung on a hook in the hallway of the stone house, a silent sentinel. It did not move. It did not breathe. It waited. Elias stood before it. His hands shook. Fine tremors. Like leaves in a gale. He was a constable. A man of the law. A man of order. Yet he felt unmoored. The house was old. Victorian. Stone walls thick as a...
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