The Distant Threshold
The rain lashed against the windowpane of the small office on Fleet Street, a rhythmic drumming that could not drown out the silence inside. Elias Thorne sat at his desk, the leather worn smooth by years of anxious hands, and stared at the eviction notice pinned to the corkboard. It was dated October 14th, 1893, and it gave him until the end of the week to vacate the premises. He was thirty...
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