The Golden Oath
The wind did not merely blow through the atrium of the St. Jude’s Institute for the Aging; it hunted, a physical entity with teeth, rattling the floor-to-ceiling glass panes that had once symbolized transparency and now served only as a fragile membrane between the sterile, climate-controlled interior and the howling, snow-choked winter outside. Elias Thorne, whose spine had curved into a...
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