The Golden Suspect
The stone of the abbey did not breathe, but Elias Thorne felt its silence press against his eardrums like a deep, subterranean tide that had no intention of receding. He stood in the nave of St. Aldhelm’s, a structure that had outlasted the kings who commissioned it and the plagues that had swept through the surrounding villages, and he was alone with the weight of his own failing memory, a...
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