The Distant Summer
The truck idled, the engine a low, rhythmic thrum that vibrated up through the soles of Elias Thorne’s boots. He was thirty-four, a border patrol agent with twelve years on the force, and he was driving into the desert night with a desperation that felt like a physical weight in his chest. He needed the promotion. The promotion meant the salary bump, the salary bump meant the surgery for his...
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