The Wistful Crossroads
The air in the Bureau of Spiritual Affairs tasted of chalk dust and old fear, a dry, suffocating haze that settled in Elias Thorne’s lungs as he sat before the desk of Chief Inspector Halloway, his hands trembling not from the cold but from the sheer, crushing weight of the silence he was trying to break. He had come to secure a pension for his sister, Clara, whose lungs were slowly filling...
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