The Golden Circuit
The first letter lay on the mahogany desk, its edges curling slightly as if burnt by a candle that had long since gone out, bearing a date three days in the past and a signature that Thomas Bradshaw recognized with the visceral, sickening shock of a man seeing his own face in a mirror for the last time. It was from his father, a man who had not spoken to him in seven years, a silence so thick...
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