The Golden Visit
The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the bruised, industrial sky, a constant, heavy sigh that turned the cobblestones of the district into a slick, black mirror reflecting the soot-stained faces of the men who walked them with their heads bowed against the damp chill that seeped into their bones and settled there, a cold stone in the center of their chests. Elias Thorne walked...
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