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Fog has a way of swallowing the truth.
On a night when the Thames lay still and London held its breath, a man died without a sound—his skin marked by a strange blue pallor, his secrets carried off by the mist.
My name is Dr. Arthur Wenton.
And the man beside me, Kelsom Cholerh, does not believe in ghosts…
only in men who use fear as a weapon.
By The Mystery CipherFog has a way of swallowing the truth.
On a night when the Thames lay still and London held its breath, a man died without a sound—his skin marked by a strange blue pallor, his secrets carried off by the mist.
My name is Dr. Arthur Wenton.
And the man beside me, Kelsom Cholerh, does not believe in ghosts…
only in men who use fear as a weapon.