The Faded Paradox
The fog did not roll in so much as it settled, a heavy, damp wool pressing against the glass of the Land Rover until the world outside was reduced to a grey smear of indistinguishable shapes. Elias Thorne sat behind the wheel, his knuckles white, listening to the rhythmic thump of the wipers against the windshield, a sound that had become the only constant in the last forty-eight hours. He had...
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