The Pale Tower
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, cold drizzle that turned the gravel drive of the Vane Estate into a slurry of mud and broken twigs, and Elias Thorne sat in the cramped, damp office at the front of the house, counting the hours he had spent on the case file of Julian Vane. It was a simple arithmetic, the kind that kept the mind from wandering into the deeper, darker rooms...
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