The Wistful Dinner
The ledger in Elias Thorne’s pocket weighed three ounces and four pennies, a precise sum of his remaining capital and his dwindling life. He counted the coins against his thumb as he stepped off the mail coach, the metal cold and sharp against his skin. The town of Oakhaven sat in a bowl of fog so thick it felt like wading through wet wool, and the only sound was the creak of the coach’s axle...
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