The Distant Clue
The rain in Blackwood was not like rain elsewhere; it fell with a heavy, metallic persistence that seemed to soak into the very mortar of the structures it struck, and Elias Thorne felt the weight of it pressing against his forehead as he stood before the rusted iron gates of the Blackwood Asylum, his breath pluming in the chill November air. He was forty-two years old, a structural engineer by...
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