The Golden Downtown
The rain in Oakhaven did not fall so much as it seeped, a cold, persistent damp that found the cracks in the stone and the gaps in the wool, settling into the bones of anyone who lingered in the streets. Elias Thorne stood in the narrow alley behind the archive, his breath pluming in the chill air, clutching a leather satchel against his chest as if it contained a sleeping child rather than the...
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