The Distant Journey
The left hand had begun to burn three days after the accident, a dull, throbbing ache that sat deep in the knuckles and refused to yield to cold water or the poultices of wet cloths that his mother insisted upon. Elias Thorne, twelve years old and sharp-eyed with a clerk’s precision, watched the soot settle on the windowsill of the administrative office, the air thick with the smell of coal...
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