The Golden Downtown
The departure was not a sudden severing but a slow, viscous draining, a hollowing out that began in the marrow and radiated outward until the skin felt too large for the bones beneath, and Elias Thorne stood in the center of the vast, dust-mote heavy drawing room of his ancestral home, watching the sunlight stretch across the Persian rug in long, golden bars that seemed to pulse with a life of...
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