The Golden Master
The frost lay thick on the windshield, a white silence that swallowed the early light of the November morning. Arthur Vane sat behind the wheel of his sedan, the engine idling with a low, rhythmic hum that seemed to match the slow, heavy beat of his own heart. He was a man of routine, a ledger-keeper at a firm in the city, whose life was measured in ink lines and the steady tick of the office...
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