The Faded Photograph
The word “Thorne” cut through the cold air, sharp as a blade against the ear, and Elias woke with a gasp, his chest heaving as if he had been swimming underwater. He lay in the narrow bunk of the guardhouse, the ceiling beams groaning under the weight of the November sleet, and for a moment he could not tell if the water in his lungs was real or a memory. His right shoulder throbbed, a dull,...
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