The Distant Machine
The iron gauntlet weighed four pounds, three ounces, and the exact amount of silence that had grown in Elias Thorne’s chest since the morning he left the field hospital. He counted the stitches in the leather strap again, forty-two in total, each one pulled tight by a hand that no longer trembled but still remembered the cold of the cellar floor where he had spent the last three days hiding...
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