The Golden Song
"Put it down, Thomas. Please." I looked at the jar. It was small, glass, filled with a thick, amber liquid that caught the gray light of the kitchen. Honey. Or perhaps something thicker. Something medicinal. My hands were shaking. They had been shaking for three days. "Who told you to bring that here?" I asked. My voice sounded thin. Distant. Like it was coming from the next room. "Dr. Evans,"...
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