The Golden Suspect

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2026-08-17 23:06:53 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, cold mist that settled into the pores of your skin and refused to leave, clinging to the wool of your tunic and the leather of your boots like a second, heavier self. You stand at the edge of the city, where the cobblestones give way to the muddy, churning river, and you watch the water move with a slow, deliberate hatred, carrying...

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