The Faded Frontier
The debt is not in coin, but in flesh, and you have forgotten this until the morning the dough in the stone trough begins to pulse against your forearms, a rhythmic thudding that matches the frantic, arrhythmic hammering of your own heart. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a master baker in the city of Oakhaven, where the air is always thick with the scent of yeast and the metallic...
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