The Wistful Cipher
The banquet hall of the Sanitarium for the Insane and the Incurable was a place of polished mahogany and stifling silence, where the air hung heavy with the scent of boiled cabbage and old dust. Elias Thorne sat at the far end of the long table, his hands folded tightly in his lap, knuckles white beneath the skin. He was a man of modest stature, draped in a coat of heavy wool that had seen...
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