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As he drove into the fog, the GPS on his dashboard flickered and died. The road beneath his tires turned from asphalt to crushed oyster shells. He arrived at a small cluster of saltbox houses tucked behind the dunes—a village that felt like it had been held underwater for a century.
When the fog finally lifted, Elias was found asleep in his Jeep on a dead-end road near the marsh. His mailbag was empty, except for a single, unaddressed envelope. Inside was nothing but a handful of warm, dry sand and a note that read: “Return to Sender. We are finally home.” 087817 zip
Table_title: ATLANTIC Table_content: header: | District | ZIP 3 Codes | row: | District: CONNECTICUT | ZIP 3 Codes: 060, 061, 062, As he drove into the fog, the GPS