The Distant Legend
March 14, 2024. The rain in Manchester has a way of settling into the bones before it even hits the pavement, a cold that feels less like weather and more like a verdict. I sat in the waiting area of Vane & Associates, a firm that smells of stale coffee and the particular, dry dust of old paper, holding the file for the Legacy Policy. My father, Arthur Vane, died three weeks ago, or so the...
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