The Faded River
The chandeliers in the Blackwood hall swung with a slow, hypnotic grace, their crystal pendants catching the late afternoon light until the air itself seemed to shimmer with a cold, brittle brilliance, while Elias Thorne stood at the far end of the room, his hands clasped behind his back, feeling the weight of the deed in his pocket like a stone that had grown heavier with every passing hour....
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