The Wistful Letter
The silver split with a sound like a bone breaking. Elias Thorne watched the fragments skitter across the workbench, tiny shards catching the afternoon light that slanted through the factory window. He reached for the largest piece, but Silas’s hand shot out, blocking his. The apprentice’s eyes were wide, not with concern, but with a cold, hard fear. "Don't touch it, Mr. Thorne," Silas said....
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