The Golden Mirror
The coffee was cold. It had been sitting in the mug for an hour. A film of brown skin floated on the surface. Detective Elias Thorne stared at it. The office was quiet. The fluorescent lights hummed. A low, electric buzz. It drilled into his teeth. He was a man of rules. Of procedure. Of clean lines. He looked at the file on his desk. Case 409. The victim was a junior analyst. A woman. Sarah...
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