The Faded Road
The fog in Oakhaven did not lift; it merely thickened, a grey wool that choked the light from the windows of the house on Sycamore Street. Elias Thorne stood by the bedside, his hands trembling not from the cold, but from the weight of the parchment in his arms. His mother, Marguerite, lay still, her breathing a shallow rattle that sounded like dry leaves skittering across pavement. She was...
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