The Golden Maze
The air in the basement archives of the Department of Corrections in Ohio smelled of wet cardboard, old dust, and the faint, metallic tang of ozone that seemed to cling to the walls like a second skin. Elias Thorne sat on a folding chair that groaned under his weight, his back curved into a permanent question mark, his hands resting on his knees where the skin was rough and cracked from years...
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