The Golden Visit
The fog in Oakhaven did not roll in; it rose, thick and gray as wet wool, swallowing the road before Elias Thorne’s truck could clear the last bend. He was forty-two, a structural engineer who believed in load-bearing walls and the honest math of concrete, yet the air here vibrated with a low hum that settled in his molars like a bad filling. He had come to inspect the foundation of St. Jude’s...
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