The Wistful Witness
The fire had already begun to eat the floorboards before Elias Thorne realized the magnitude of his own act, the flames licking upward with a hungry, wet hiss that sounded uncomfortably like the breathing of the mist which had choked Oakhaven for the last three winters. He stood in the center of his shop, the air thick with the smell of burning varnish and old brass, watching the inferno...
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