The Golden Harbor
The fog did not roll into the port of Blackwood; it arrived like a verdict, thick and gray, settling over the iron girders and the rotting wood of the docks until the world was reduced to a radius of ten feet. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood at the edge of the pier, his fingers white-knuckled around the lapels of his father’s old uniform jacket, the gold braid worn thin but still catching the dim,...
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