The Faded Apartment
The rain in Oakhaven did not fall so much as it suspended, a fine, gray mist that settled into the pores of the limestone and the wool of Elena Vance’s coat. She stood on the scaffolding of the Harrow Bridge, her hard hat tilted back, staring at the central arch with the cold, detached scrutiny of a woman who trusted only numbers. At thirty-four, Elena had spent the last three years restoring...
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