The Wistful Voyage
The rain hit the shattered windows of St. Jude’s Hospital with a rhythmic, metallic hiss that sounded less like weather and more like a warning. Elias Thorne, thirty-four and wearing a suit that had cost more than his monthly rent, stood in the central atrium, his hard hat reflecting the flickering emergency lights. He was here to secure the final demolition permit for his sister’s estate, a...
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