The Golden Suspect
You hold the vial. It is glass. Thick glass. Cold. The liquid inside is amber. Viscous. It moves slowly. Like honey. Like time. You are in the Hall of Echoes. The ceiling is high. Painted with angels. Their wings are cracked. The floor is marble. White. Veined with grey. You stand in the center. The guards watch. Their faces are masks. Stone. Silent. Your brother stands across the room....
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