The Faded Quadrant
The rain tapped against the windowpane. A steady, rhythmic drumming. Elias stood in the kitchen. His hands shook. Not from cold. From the weight of the silence. "Did you hear that?" his son asked. Arthur was seven. He sat at the table. His eyes were wide. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath them. He had not slept in two days. Elias had not slept in two weeks. "I heard it," Elias said. His...
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