The Pale Altar

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2026-08-24 11:43:55 -

The Pale Altar

The rain did not fall so much as it was exhaled by the sky, a cold, persistent mist that seeped into the joints of Elias Thorne’s knees and settled in the damp wool of his overcoat as he stood before the crumbling stone facade of St. Jude’s Chapel. He was fifty-two years old, a border patrol agent with twenty years of service etched into the graying hair at his temples, and his concrete,...

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