The Golden Quest
It was a Tuesday when the smell of rot began to seep through the floorboards of the study, a scent that was not quite decay, but something sweeter, heavier, like overripe fruit left too long in the sun, and Elias Thorne, who had spent the last thirty years cataloging the quiet failures of other people’s lives as a forensic accountant, sat at his mahogany desk and realized with a cold, detached...
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