The Pale Echo
The salt air in Oakhaven did not cleanse; it corroded, eating away at the rusted iron of the pier and the dignity of those who lingered upon it, and Elias Thorne stood at the edge of this decaying structure with the same grim tenacity he had once applied to cataloging the town’s forgotten histories, his hands trembling as they clutched a ledger that was less a book and more a wound wrapped in...
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