The Distant Nightmare
The letter was thin, the paper cheap, and the ink had bled slightly at the edges where a thumb had rested too long. Elias Thorne held it in his right hand, his fingers trembling not from cold but from the specific, grinding exhaustion of a man who has been running on fumes for three days. It was a final notice from a private lender, a man named Kael who operated out of a rented office in the...
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