The Distant Joke
The iron locket on Elias Vane’s chest weighed precisely four ounces, a weight he had measured against the kitchen scale three times that morning to ensure the calibration was correct, the metal cold against his sternum like a stone left out in the snow. He counted the hours of his exile, twelve years since the town of Oakhaven had deemed his mediumship a fraud, a number that felt less like time...
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