The Golden Song
The letter lay on the table between us, its edges crisp and white against the dark, varnished wood, a stark island in a sea of shadows. "Read it, Elias," Silas said. His voice was low, a rumble of gravel shifting underfoot. He did not look at me. He looked at the window, where the rain lashed the glass in frantic, silver streaks. Outside, the world was dissolving into mist and grey. Inside, the...
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