The Faded Bouquet
The gravel crunched under the tires of the federal sedan, a sound that felt too loud, too deliberate, in the heavy silence of the Blackwood estate. Elias Thorne, a forty-two-year-old marshal with a jaw set like granite, cut the engine and stared at the manor looming against the bruised twilight. He was here to execute a warrant for his brother, Julian, a man the state had declared insane, a...
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