The Distant Legend
The rain in Harrowgate did not wash things clean; it only made the grime slicker, turning the cobblestones into mirrors that reflected Elias Thorne’s hunched, wet form back at him with a clarity he found unbearable. He stood on the threshold of the Municipal Library, the door still open behind him, the cold wind biting at his collar as he watched Mrs. Gable arrange her spectacles on her nose...
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