The Golden Downtown
The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended mist of gray particulate that clung to the windowpane of the interrogation room, blurring the world outside into a smear of wet asphalt and dying neon, while inside, Detective Elias Thorne sat with his back to the door, his fingers drumming a slow, arrhythmic code against the cold steel of the table, a code he had once sworn to break and...
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