The Distant Ghost
The wool coat was heavy, its fibers matted into stiff, dark clumps that smelled of damp earth and old iron. Elias held it in both hands, the fabric dragging against the cold tile floor of the intake hall, the hem frayed and unraveling into loose threads that caught on the metal grates beneath his feet. He was twelve years old, though he stood with the rigid, hollow posture of a man who had...
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