The Wistful Mirror
The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray drizzle that turned the cobblestones of the district into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the flickering neon of the storefronts, and it was in this damp, suffocating twilight that Captain Elias Thorne stood in the center of the precinct’s main hall, watching the doors open one by one as his men filed out into the night, leaving him...
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