The Golden Circuit
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, the envelope stained with the grease of the coal chute, the ink smudged where the courier’s thumb had rested too long. Thomas Whitmore held it in his trembling hand, the paper feeling impossibly light, lighter than the weight of the silence that had settled in his study for the past three days. Outside, the city of Oakhaven churned with the rhythmic, metallic...
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