The Golden Myth
The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, grey weeping that turned the cobblestones of the Blackwood District into a slick, reflective mirror of the sky. Inside the basement office of the Municipal Sanitary Commission, Elias Thorne sat hunched over a desk that smelled of damp wool and stale tobacco, his fingers tracing the rim of a chipped ceramic mug. He was a man who had spent...
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