The Distant Threshold
You are wiping the rust from the iron key with a rag that has seen better days, the friction a dry rasp in the quiet of the evidence locker. The metal is cold, worn smooth by decades of hands, and it fits your palm like a second thumb. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, a constable in Oakhaven, and you need to clear your name after the unexplained death of a suspect in your cell. The town...
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