The Golden Visit
The rain fell in sheets, a gray curtain that erased the boundaries of the world. Inside the workshop, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool and machine oil. Elias stood before the rack, his hands trembling. He wore a suit of charcoal gray, tailored to hide the scar that ran from his collarbone to his hip. It was a clean cut. A precise line. The kind of line one made with a scalpel, not a...
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