The Golden Echoes
The air in the sterilization room was thick with the hum of ultraviolet lamps. It was a sound that drilled into the bone, a high-pitched whine that Elias Thorne had come to know better than the voice of his daughter. He stood before the large glass partition, his reflection ghostly and pale against the gleaming white tiles. He wore his apron, the heavy canvas stained with years of chemical...
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