The Golden Echoes
The bell rang. Three times. Sharp. I stopped writing. The ink dried on the page. A black star. "You're done," the Warden said. He stood in the doorway. Tall. Shadowed. "Step outside," he commanded. I stood. My legs shook. I did not look at him. I looked at the floor. The stone was cold. I could feel it through my shoes. I followed him. The corridor was long. It smelled of damp wool and old...
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