The Wistful Crossroads
The jar sits on the counter, cold to the touch, its glass surface fogged with a breath that does not belong to you. You are Elias, forty-two, and the baker of Oakhaven, a town wrapped in a permanent, wet mist that smells of damp wool and woodsmoke. You want to sell the starter. It is the only way to pay the debt that has hollowed out your future, a debt owed to the Mayor, a man who buys silence...
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