The Wistful Campus
The rain in Harrow’s Gap did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a cold, grey curtain that turned the town square into a mirror of standing water. Elias Thorne stood beneath the awning of the shuttered bank, his coat soaked through, his hands tucked deep into the pockets of his trousers to keep them from shaking, not from cold but from the sudden, violent realization that the life he had...
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