The Wistful Voyage
The rain in Oakhaven does not fall so much as it hangs, a persistent grey mist that seeps into the mortar of the St. Jude’s Orphanage and settles in the lungs of anyone foolish enough to linger in its shadows. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, and for the past three months you have been cataloging the water-stained ledgers in the main archive, your fingers numb from the damp, your mind...
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