The Faded Apartment
The solicitor’s letter lay on the kitchen table, its paper already damp with the condensation of the room, the ink beginning to run into the wood grain like a bruise spreading under skin. Elias Thorne stared at the document, the legal jargon blurring as he tried to remember the last time he had felt so cold, a chill that started in the marrow of his shin and climbed the femur to settle in the...
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