The Distant Joke
The knife had slipped from the dead man’s hand, leaving a red smear on the mossy earth, and Elias Thorne stood with his breath ragged in his chest, the weight of the blade still humming in his wrist as the mist thickened around them. Silas Vane, the village elder, stepped forward with the slow, deliberate pace of a man who had already decided the verdict before the crime was even cold, his eyes...
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