The Distant Metropolis
The letter from the estate lawyer, Mr. Halloway, lay on the workbench, its crisp white paper contrasting sharply with the grime of the brass filings scattered around it. Elias Thorne adjusted his magnifying loupe, his fifty-two-year-old eyes straining to decipher the fine print that detailed the auction date for his late brother Julian’s personal effects, a date that was now only three weeks...
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