The Faded Apartment
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the narrow lane into slick mirrors reflecting the gaslight’s sickly yellow glow. Elias Thorne sat at the center of the small, windowless room in the attic of the old constabulary annex, his knees drawn up to his chest, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and the metallic tang of old silver....
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