The Faded Apartment
The screwdriver bit into the brass casing with a shriek that set Elias’s teeth on edge, and he stopped, listening to the silence that followed, a silence so thick it felt like pressure against his eardrums. He was forty-two, a watchmaker with hands that had not trembled in decades, yet his knuckles were white as he held the tiny instrument against the face of the grandfather clock in his...
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