The Faded Frontier
The train to Blackwood smelled of coal dust and wet wool, a scent that clung to Elara Vance’s clothes as she stepped onto the platform, her suitcase heavy with the weight of her son’s medical bills. She was thirty years old, a widow of three years, and the town of Blackwood loomed ahead of her like a black bruise against the grey sky, its brick chimneys spitting smoke into the air in a steady,...
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