PREVIEW
... noticed it just after dawn, when the coast should have been loud. Waves usually argued with the shore. Wind usually clawed at broken sails. Even the dead made noise—dragging, moaning, repeating the sounds of a life that refused to end.
This morning, nothing competed.
The silence did not press down. It opened outward, as if the world itself had paused to receive something.
The woman stopped tying her blade to her belt. The man lowered his hand mid-motion. Neither spoke, y ...
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