The Distant Threshold
The brass watch had been missing for three days, a void in the pocket of the coat that hung in the hallway of the Thorne house. Elias, twelve years old and sharp with the specific hunger of a child who has lost something precious, knew where it was. The town of Oakhaven, choked by the soot of the textile mills, whispered of the Glass House, a structure of pale stone and warped mirrors on the...
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