The Distant Promise
The rain lashed against the stained glass of the Thorne estate library, a rhythmic drumming that seemed to measure the seconds of Elias’s dwindling patience. He sat at the heavy oak desk, the Black Ledger open before him, its leather cover cracked like old skin, the pages brittle with a dampness that had seeped into the house’s bones over centuries. Elias was thirty-four, an archivist by trade...
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