The Distant Affair
Thorne. The name was not shouted, but it cut through the damp air of the Oakhaven square with the precision of a scalpel, slicing the noise of the rain and the murmuring crowd in two. Elias Thorne stopped, his fingers white-knuckled around the spine of the waterlogged ledger he clutched against his chest. He was a municipal archivist, a man of forty years whose life had been measured in the...
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