The Golden Echoes
"Did you sign it?" The question hung in the air, sharp as a broken glass shard. Thomas did not answer. He stood in the center of the kitchen, his hands gripping the edge of the oak table. The wood was cold. The house was silent, except for the tick of the clock on the mantelpiece. "Thomas." "I didn't sign it," he said. His voice was low. Gravelly. Margaret stared at him. Her eyes were red....
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