The Golden Echoes
The mud was cold. It seeped through the thin soles of Thomas’s boots. He did not feel the cold. He felt the weight. The weight of the bag on his back. The bag was heavy. It contained the ledger. The ledger was red. The red leather was cracked. The pages inside were white. The ink was black. The numbers were clear. They were true. Thomas was twelve years old. He was small. His face was pale. His...
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