The Faded Frontier
The letter lay on the wet gravel, its edges curling away from the damp earth like a dying leaf, and Elias Thorne stared at it with a hollow, aching focus that made his vision blur at the margins. It was not the letter he had come for; he had come for the one in the watchtower, the final communication from his wife, Margaret, before she vanished into the anonymity of the city, but this scrap of...
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