The Faded Portrait
Chapter One "Clifford, do you think we can still save the light before the wind takes it?" Elena asked, her voice thin against the howl of the dry gale that scoured the clay floor of the station office. The question hung in the stale air, heavy with the scent of kerosene fumes and damp wool, a query that had become their daily ritual since the contraband cargo was seized and the company’s...
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