The Distant Legend
The call came from the top of the stairs, sharp and thin, cutting through the hum of the ventilation system. "Thorne. Get up here." Elias Thorne did not look up immediately. He was adjusting the binding tension on a 1924 municipal water report, his fingers wrapped around the brass lever of the stitching machine, feeling the rough grain of the leather spine against his palm. The machine ticked,...
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