The Golden Suspect
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, gray drizzle that turned the gravel road into a slurry of mud and memory, and you walked with your heavy leather satchel against your hip, the weight of it a familiar ache in your shoulder, a physical manifestation of the years you had spent bending your back to the grind of the law, the law that was supposed to protect you but had instead...
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