The Distant Clue
The train had been delayed two hours, and the cold in the carriage was a dry, biting thing that settled deep in the marrow. Elias Thorne checked his watch, the glass cracked down the center, and looked at the man across the aisle. The man was young, perhaps twenty, with eyes that darted to the door every few seconds. "You’re late," Elias said. His voice was flat, worn down by years of shouting...
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