The Distant Clue
The fog in Oakhaven does not merely obscure; it inhales, a thick, grey membrane that presses against your lungs with the weight of old, unspoken grief, and you walk through it with the heavy, deliberate step of a man who has spent twenty years listening to the silence between the trees. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, a border warden whose hands are roughened by rope and rain, and your...
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