The Golden Circuit
The rain did not fall so much as it was pressed against the windowpane of the interrogation room, a grey curtain of mist that blurred the world outside into a smear of industrial decay. Sergeant Elias Thorne sat in the steel chair, his hands cuffed to the armrests, the metal biting into his wrists with a cold intimacy. He was not looking at Detective Arthur Vance, who stood by the door with a...
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