The Distant Promise
The winter wind did not merely blow through the corridors of St. Jude’s Infirmary; it hunted them, a grey, hungry thing that found the chinks in the stone and the gaps in the woolen cloaks of the night watchmen. Elias Thorne stood at the threshold of the infirmary, his hand resting on the cold iron of the door handle, watching the last of the winter’s light bleed out of the sky. He was a man...
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