The Wistful Silence
The damp in the basement of the Halloway Textile Mill did not simply settle; it invaded, a thick, coal-choked miasma that turned the air into a substance Elias Thorne could taste on his tongue, metallic and stale, carrying the weight of forty years of labor and the silent, rotting sickness of his daughter, Clara. Elias stood before the massive loom, his hand resting on the cold iron frame,...
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