The Golden Harbor
The silver chain of the pocket watch bites into your thumb as you slide it into the inner breast pocket of your coat, the metal cold and slick with the dampness of your palm, a small, tarnished weight that feels less like an heirloom and more like a bullet you have not yet fired. You are Elias Thorne, thirty-two, the sheriff of a town that has decided your blood is too foreign for its soil, and...
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