The Distant Affair
Thorne. The name hit him like a physical blow, sharp and cold against the wet wool of his coat. He stood in the freezing rain of the high desert, the wind whipping the water into his eyes, blurring the horizon into a smear of grey and black. In his left hand, his fingers white and stiff with cold, he held a letter from his brother, Julian. The paper was soft now, the ink bleeding where the rain...
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