The Distant Clue
The rain lashed against the high, narrow windows of the Meridian Institute, a relentless gray drumming that matched the headache splitting my temples. I sat at my desk, the wood cold under my palms, staring at the ledger open before me. The names were there, faint but undeniable, bleeding through the paper like water stains: Thorne, E. Thorne, E. Three days I had watched them appear, a slow...
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