The Faded Photograph
The letter sat on the workbench, its seal broken, the ink still wet against the heavy cream paper. Elias Thorne stared at the words *structural negligence* as if they were written in a language he had once known but had since forgotten. His hands, usually steady enough to thread a needle with a magnifying glass, trembled violently, the tremor so fine it looked like a vibration in the air...
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