The Pale Echo
The fog in Oakhaven did not merely obscure the road; it swallowed it, a thick, grey wool that pressed against the windows of the constabulary office like a living thing seeking entry. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, and for the last decade, I have served this village with a quiet, grinding fidelity that the locals mistake for weakness, a habit born of the shame that clings to my family...
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