The Faded Apartment
The temperature in the room had dropped by ten degrees, a chill that Elias Thorne felt not in his skin but in the marrow of his knees, a physical reminder that the heating had failed three days ago and the gas bill was two weeks overdue. He sat in the high-backed chair, the one with the torn velvet that he’d patched with brown paper, and watched Mrs. Gable’s face twist into a mask of suspicion....
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