The Faded Apartment
The rain in Harrow’s End did not wash the streets clean; it merely made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones into a mirror of black water that reflected the gas lamps and the hollow eyes of the men standing beneath them. Detective Silas Thorne stood by the window of his cramped office, watching the droplets race each other down the glass, his hand resting on the heavy oak desk where a...
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