The Wistful Ashes
The contract is due by noon, Mr. Thorne, and the ink is already dry on the first page, so you had best stop staring at the chandelier and sign where the line is drawn. Elias Thorne did not look at the solicitor, nor at the two men from the Ashworth Coal Company who stood behind him like statues carved from grey slate and bad intentions. He looked at the candle in the iron sconce by the door. It...
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