The Distant Clue
Thorne. The name was spat out by the bank manager, Marcus Hale, with the same flat, bored tone he used to address the line of customers shuffling behind the glass partition, a sound that hung in the freezing air of the town square like a slap. Elias Thorne stood before the window, his coat soaked through to the skin, the rain hammering the pavement in a relentless, rhythmic assault that made...
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