The Wistful Ashes
The coughing started at dawn, a wet, rattling sound that shook the floorboards of the parlor where Clara sat. Dr. Elias Thorne stood by the window, watching the industrial smog of 1912 London settle over the rooftops like a grey shroud. He was a man of precise angles and colder logic, a scholar of industrial hygiene who believed that every ailment was merely a variable waiting for the correct...
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