The Golden Mirror
The fire started in the basement. It was a small thing at first, a spark catching the dry insulation, but it grew with a hungry, silent speed. By the time the alarm screamed, the house was already a cage of heat. Elias stood in the hallway. He held a small, gold-framed mirror in his hands. It was heavy. It was his only possession that mattered. He did not run. He walked. "Get out!" his...
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