The Golden Harbor
The fog in Oakhaven did not drift so much as it pressed against the windows of the St. Jude’s Orphanage, a thick, grey membrane that seemed to seal the building off from the rest of the world, carrying with it a metallic taste that Elias Thorne felt coating his tongue the moment he stepped out of the taxi. He was thirty-two, though the tremor in his hands and the jaundiced tint of his eyes...
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