The Wistful Dinner
The rain fell in sheets, cold and relentless, beating against the wet stone of the town hall steps. Elias stood there, forty-two years old and soaked to the bone, his hands trembling as he clutched a rusted iron key. He needed the deed to the mill. He needed it to pay the hospital bills for his sister, Clara, who lay dying in a bed three miles down the road. The bank manager, Mr. Vane, held the...
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