The Golden Suspect

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2026-08-19 16:47:58 -

The banquet hall of the Ashworth estate smelled of roasted pheasant and ozone, a scent that seemed to vibrate in the teeth of everyone present. I stood by the sideboard, my hands trembling slightly as I polished a silver tureen, the metal warm and alive beneath my thumbs. My fingers were stained with the residue of the day’s work, a faint, iridescent sheen that no amount of soap could fully...

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