The Wistful Letter
Thorne. The name hits the back of your skull like a stone thrown through a window, shattering the quiet of the night shift, and you look up from the ledger to see the shadow of Captain Halloway stretching across the desk, long and distorted by the flickering gaslight. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, and your hands are trembling so badly that you can barely hold the pen, the ink...
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