The Wistful Dinner
The odometer on the patrol car read 142,309 miles, a number that felt heavy in Elias Thorne’s mind as he watched the fog roll in from the tree line. He had been driving for three hours, the heater blowing hot air that did nothing to warm the cold that had settled into his bones, a cold that seemed to radiate from the fog itself. Oakhaven was a town of forty souls and a single main street, but...
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