The Wistful Crossroads

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2026-08-22 21:20:32 -

The fog in Millhaven did not roll in; it sat, a thick, gray wool that matted the cobblestones and swallowed the sound of Arthur Vane’s boots. He was thirty years old, though the lines around his eyes suggested a man who had seen three decades of rain. Arthur was a postal inspector, a title that carried the weight of order in a town that had long since lost its. For six months, he had carried...

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