The Pale Door
"The letter says the grant is contingent on physical evidence, Elias. Not theories. Not memoirs. Evidence." Elias Thorne looked at the envelope in his hand. The paper was thin, cheap, and smelled of the damp wool of the train he had just left behind. He stood at the edge of the Blackwood Valley, where the industrial ruins of the old ironworks sprawled like a broken jaw against the grey sky. It...
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