The Golden Mirror
The rain hit the cobblestones like static on a broken wire. Sergeant Elias Thorne pulled his collar up. It did not help. The cold was a physical weight, pressing against his ribs, demanding breath. He stood before the shop window. The glass was fogged from the inside. A single light burned within. He did not look at the street. He did not look at the crowd gathering behind him. He looked at the...
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