The Faded Shield
The rain in the city of St. Jude’s did not fall; it hovered, a fine, gray mist that clung to the skin and the stone alike. You are Elias, thirty-four years old, and you stand before the monolithic facade of the cathedral, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts that vanish into the damp air. You are not here for prayer. You are here because the bank forecloses on your family home in three...
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