The Pale Meridian
The silver ring on your left hand has been burning since dawn, a steady, dry heat that seeps through the skin and settles deep in the bone, a constant reminder that the silence in your cabin is a lie. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, and you are a border patrol officer in the highlands, a man who has spent two decades measuring the world in miles of fence and wire, but today the line you are...
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