The Golden Harbor
The harbor house stood like a broken tooth in the jaw of the town, its clapboard skin peeling in long, gray strips that flapped against the salt air with a sound indistinguishable from dry skin tearing. Elias Thorne pressed his back against the rotting porch railing, the deed to the property clutched in his hand so tightly that the paper had begun to soften into a pulp of anxiety and wood pulp....
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