The Golden Suspect
The ink on the warrant was still wet when Captain Elias Thorne realized he had signed his own death sentence. It was a small, crimson stain on the heavy parchment, a smudge that looked less like a signature and more like a drop of blood from a pinprick. He sat in the back of the carriage, the wheels grinding over the cobblestones of London, while the fog outside thickened into a living thing....
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