The Golden Downtown
The glass was already broken when Elias Thorne arrived at the precinct station, the shards catching the harsh, fluorescent hum of the overhead lights like frozen stars trapped in a web of dust. He stood in the doorway, his coat heavy with the damp chill of the November rain that had been falling since dawn, and watched the janitor sweep the fragments into a dustpan with a slow, rhythmic thud...
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