The Wistful Mirror
The vial in your hand weighs exactly two ounces. You count the grains of crushed opium inside, a dry rattle like sand in a shaken hourglass, before capping it tight. Your hands shake, a tremor you have tried to hide for three days since the raid on the Mill Street warehouse. You are Elias Thorne, forty-two, a border patrol agent in the fog-choked town of Oakhaven, and you want your name...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 2 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen