The Faded Frontier

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2026-08-23 10:35:04 -

The wool sat on my shoulders like a dead thing. It was heavy, dense, and smelled of damp earth and old blood. I stood in the center of the Oakhaven jailhouse, the cold November air seeping through the thin walls. My hands trembled. The palsy had started in my fingers three months ago, but now it lived in my wrists, my elbows, the small bones of my spine. I looked down at the garment. It was...

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