The Golden Visit
The rain had not stopped for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the old quarter into slick, dark mirrors reflecting the fractured neon of the city. Elias Thorne stood in the doorway of his cramped office, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and stale tobacco, listening to the wet hiss of tires on the pavement. He was a man who had spent forty years...
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