The Golden Myth
The file was thin, almost flimsy, a single sheet of manila paper folded twice and resting on the corner of my desk like a forgotten receipt. For three years, I had carried it with me, not in a briefcase, but in the lining of my coat, a secret weight against my spine that grew heavier with every passing month. The paper was the original report, the one I had filed with the precinct before they...
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